We walk past patterns every day. Some are built, others are grown. This short series is a quiet look at repetition, texture, and the beauty of the unnoticed — found just a few steps from home.
Stillness after the rain. I find peace in textures and the small repetitions of nature.
Tangled yet orderly, the leaves overlap like thoughts not yet spoken. I’m drawn to the way nature builds its own rhythm — subtle, slow, and endlessly patient.
A close look at frozen grass — each blade wrapped in morning silence, each crystal catching the light like a whispered memory. A quiet geometry, built overnight and gone by noon.
A close-up of bark mulch in the garden bed — jagged, layered, weather-worn. A quiet collage of texture and time, resting between soil and sky.
An old glass block window bathed in the warm glow of the evening sun.
Sempervivum forms beautiful natural rosettes that stand out especially well in black and white.
Hosta leaves dotted with raindrops after a summer storm.