The atmosphere of a calm swamp, hidden life that is almost untouched by the hustle and bustle of humans. Among the dried and green stems of the towering swamp grass, a small bird stands with vigilance. His feathers mixed with chocolate, white, and black made it almost invisible, as if he was only part of the mud and scattered stems.
With sharp eyes that shiny red, the bird is silent, as if understanding very well that its existence depends on the perfection of the disguise. Every small movement is in harmony with the rhythm of nature, making anyone who at a glance at a glance will not be aware of the small beauty hidden there.
The dim light that penetrates between the swamp stems adds to the magical feel, as if nature gives a protective curtain so that the tiny occupant remains safe and integrated with its environment. This is the beauty of the beautiful nature of life that continues to beat in silence, with a pseudonym as a weapon and harmony as a breath.