With eyes closed and hair sweeping like wind, she lifts into the night holding a basket of ripened fruit, as if drawn upward by the moon itself. Lush leaves surround her in every shade of green and gold, wild and alive. This is a moment of freedom—where softness becomes strength, and the garden becomes the sky.
With eyes closed and hair sweeping like wind, she lifts into the night holding a basket of ripened fruit, as if drawn upward by the moon itself. Lush leaves surround her in every shade of green and gold, wild and alive. This is a moment of freedom—where softness becomes strength, and the garden becomes the sky.