View allAll Photos Tagged ContemplativeScenes
Perched on a weathered wooden railing, a squirrel holds its prize—tiny paws curled around something worth savoring. Its tail arches like a question mark, fur fluffed against the morning air. The background blurs into green and gray, but the squirrel remains sharp, focused, alive. This is not just feeding. It’s ritual. A moment of instinct and grace, captured in stillness. The creature is ordinary, but the moment is not. It reminds us that even the smallest lives carry purpose, rhythm, and joy.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
A vast body of water lies beneath a sky thick with judgment—clouds layered like ancient grief, light breaking through in fractured defiance. The surface shimmers, not with peace, but with warning. In the corner, tree limbs reach like witnesses, framing a scene that feels more reckoning than reflection. This is not serenity. It’s the moment before something is named. The atmosphere is heavy, sacred, and unresolved. The water remembers. The sky watches. And the silence between them is not empty—it’s waiting.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
She sits quietly at the water’s edge, bathed in light and framed by shimmer. It’s a moment of peace, but not without warning. The sign nearby speaks of alligators and snakes, but she’s not rattled. She knows the rules, keeps her distance, and lets the sun do its work. It’s Florida calm—equal parts quiet and bite, best enjoyed with awareness and a good seat.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
Perched atop a weathered metal post, the Northern Mockingbird holds its ground—gray feathers sharp against a pale sky, eyes fixed on something just beyond the frame. The fence is rusted, forgotten. The bird is not. It waits, not for flight, but for silence to break. Known for its mimicry, it listens more than it sings, absorbing the world’s noise and turning it into something sharper. The background blurs into gray and green, but the Mockingbird remains in focus—an emblem of resilience, memory, and quiet rebellion. It doesn’t ask to be seen. It dares you to look.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
A lone motorboat moves across a sea of fire and shadow—its silhouette cutting through the golden hush of sunset. The sky burns with orange, red, and violet, clouds layered like veils between heaven and earth. The water reflects it all, a mirror to something eternal. There’s no urgency in the boat’s wake, only quiet purpose. It feels like a crossing. Not just of distance, but of meaning. This is the kind of moment that doesn’t ask to be remembered—it insists. The light is fading, but the journey is not over.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
The sun lowers behind a veil of tangled branches, casting a golden path across the water—a shimmer that feels more like a promise than a reflection. The foliage stands in silhouette, dark and rooted, while the sky glows with soft fire. It’s a moment of quiet tension: light pressing through shadow, time holding its breath. The scene is still, but not empty. It carries the weight of something sacred—like a prayer whispered into dusk. The water listens. The trees remember. And the light, though fading, does not retreat.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
A horse’s eye, half-shadowed and steady, peers from beneath a bridle adorned with silver—each stud a mark of care, tradition, and quiet pride. The texture of fur and leather speaks of long rides and silent understanding. Another horse lingers in the blurred background, adding depth to the moment. This is not just a portrait. It’s a communion. The gaze is calm, but not passive. It holds memory, direction, and the weight of journeys already taken. The craftsmanship is visible. The soul is implied.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
beneath a sky stitched with fading light, a lone figure stands at the world’s edge, cradled by silence. between sea and sky, where all journeys end and begin, he carries the quiet weight of becoming.
a tuk-tuk driver in silhouette drifts past the windows of the fado museum in lisbonâs alfama. inside, portraits of iconic voices gaze outward, suspended in quiet intimacy. itâs a fleeting moment where history and present share the same sunlit wall â both caught between shadow and memory.
Standing before the Mediano reservoir, I encountered this solitary tree emerging from the turquoise waters - another silent witness to the valley that once existed here. Like the submerged church tower visible elsewhere in this artificial lake, this lone tree tells the story of a landscape forever transformed by human ambition.
The dramatic storm clouds gathering overhead seemed to mirror the complex emotions this place evokes. The stunning beauty of these impossibly blue-green waters contrasts with the melancholy of knowing an entire ecosystem and community lies beneath. This tree, once part of a living valley, now stands as a poetic monument to what was lost.
What strikes me most about Mediano is how these remnants of the past continue to pierce through the water's surface, refusing to be completely forgotten. Each element - the church, this tree, the occasional ruins that appear when water levels drop - serves as a reminder of the permanent changes we make to our landscapes.
My intention was to capture this haunting beauty while honoring the memory of the valley that once was, showing how even in transformation, nature finds ways to preserve echoes of the past.
a lone figure cuts through geometry and silence, stepping through a wedge of light. shadow becomes the stage, concrete the script.
photo rights reserved by Ben
High on the rocky slopes of the Georgian-Azerbaijan border lies the remote Natlismtsemeli Monastery – a spiritual place that seems to have emerged from the landscape itself. A narrow path winds up between weathered boulders, leading to a sanctuary where time seems to stand still. The monastery buildings are partly carved into the mountainside, partly built of rough natural stone. In the middle of them stands a small church with a striking blue-green dome, dedicated to John the Baptist – Natlismtsemeli in Georgian. At the edge of the plateau stands a sturdy, square gateway that for centuries served as the monastery’s official entrance. To enter here was to literally leave the world behind – and enter a life of prayer, silence and seclusion. In this photo we seeKanitha leaving the monastery, heading towards the same gate through which we entered. The sky is softly cloudy, and her silhouette against the weathered stones. The monastery gate, weathered by the wind and the dust of centuries, marks not only a boundary in space — but also in time and experience. The rough walls bear faint traces of workmanship. The upper floor once served as a lookout post. But even now it remains a powerful symbol of transition: from the closed silence within, back to the vast emptiness of the world outside. For centuries monks lived here in silence and simplicity, in cave dwellings without comfort. Today there still lives here one monk — silent guardian of a spiritual heritage that is still palpable in stone, wind and horizon. In Natlismtsemeli there are no bells, no hurry, no frills — only faith, simplicity and silence. And whoever leaves this place carries some of that silence with them.
On the remote Georgian-Azerbaijan border, the Natlismtsemeli Monastery blends into the rocky hills. For centuries, it welcomed monks into a life of silence and prayer. In the photo, Kanitha walks back through the ancient gate — a quiet exit from a timeless sanctuary carved in stone. Even today, a single monk still lives here, guarding a tradition rooted in solitude, simplicity, and faith.
Hoog tegen de rotsachtige hellingen van het grensgebied tussen Georgië en Azerbeidzjan ligt het afgelegen Natlismtsemeli-klooster – een spirituele plek die lijkt te zijn voortgekomen uit het landschap zelf. Een smal pad slingert tussen verweerde rotsblokken omhoog en leidt naar een heiligdom waar de tijd stil lijkt te staan. De gebouwen van het klooster zijn deels uitgehouwen in de bergwand, deels opgetrokken uit ruw natuursteen. Te midden daarvan staat een kleine kerk met een opvallend blauwgroen koepeltje, gewijd aan Johannes de Doper – Natlismtsemeli in het Georgisch. Aan de rand van het plateau staat een robuuste, vierkante toegangspoort die eeuwenlang diende als officiële entree tot het klooster. Wie hier binnentrad, liet letterlijk de wereld achter zich — en stapte een leven binnen van gebed, stilte en afzondering. Op deze foto zien weKanitha het klooster verlaten, richting diezelfde poort waarlangs we naar binnen kwamen. De lucht is zacht bewolkt, en haar silhouet tegen de verweerde stenen. De kloosterpoort, verweerd door de wind en het stof van de eeuwen, markeert niet alleen een grens in ruimte — maar ook in tijd en beleving. De ruwe muren dragen vage sporen van bewerking. De bovenverdieping diende ooit uitkijkpost. Maar zelfs nu blijft het een krachtig symbool van overgang: van de besloten stilte binnen, terug naar de uitgestrekte leegte van de wereld daarbuiten. Eeuwenlang leefden hier monniken in stilte en eenvoud, in grotwoningen zonder comfort. Vandaag de dag woont hier nog steeds één monnik — stille bewaker van een geestelijk erfgoed dat nog altijd voelbaar is in steen, wind en horizon. In Natlismtsemeli zijn geen klokken, geen haast, geen opsmuk – alleen geloof, eenvoud en stilte. En wie deze plek verlaat, draagt iets van die stilte met zich mee.
seen through glass, not quite real—an ordinary moment in palma becomes a silent echo of light, shadow, and memory. the woman’s stride, paused in reflection, floats between past and presence, framed by the architecture’s soft dissonance. a photograph that doesn't shout, but stays.seen through glass, not quite real—an ordinary moment in palma becomes a silent echo of light, shadow, and memory. the woman’s stride, paused in reflection, floats between past and presence, framed by the architecture’s soft dissonance. a photograph that doesn't shout, but stays.
I was captivated by the sensual curves and golden tones of these rolling hills beneath the Pic de Querquéou, where the landscape takes on an almost abstract quality. The way the afternoon light played across these smooth ridges, creating subtle gradients from gold to shadow, transformed the mountains into natural sculptures of incredible beauty.
What drew me to this composition was the peaceful simplicity of these undulating forms against the sky, with the distinctive silhouette of Pic de Querquéou rising in the background. Unlike the jagged peaks often associated with the Pyrenees, these gentle slopes offer a different kind of mountain beauty - one that invites contemplation and reveals the softer side of this ancient range.
My intention was to capture the meditative quality of this landscape, where the interplay of light and shadow on these pastoral hills creates a scene of pure serenity. Sometimes the most powerful mountain images are the quietest ones, where the grandeur lies not in dramatic peaks but in the subtle poetry of natural forms sculpted by time and weather.
beneath the arcades of palma, silence holds her steady, the glow of the pavement painting a stage for her cigarette pause. the world moves on, but here, in silver and shadow, time lingers.
in a shaft of harsh midday light, he emerges like a figure from a lost epic—wrapped in dust, framed by silence. each movement slow and deliberate, his presence slices through the stillness of the construction site. it is not just labor that you see, but rhythm, resilience, and the poetry of hands that shape cities.
In the early evening light on Palma's Paseo del Borne, the scene captures an intriguing moment of indecision. A man, drawn to the allure of the Oysho store, stands transfixed but does not venture inside. The contrasting interplay of light and shadow adds to the mysterious atmosphere, as if the man is caught in a fleeting moment of contemplation. His bright blue shirt contrasts sharply with the store's modern façade, creating a visual tension between his presence and the commercial world that beckons him.
In the cathedral's shadow, this solemn statue stands as a silent sentinel. Its weathered surface tells stories of the past, witnessed in silent vigil. The backdrop of the magnificent cathedral, with its intricate architecture, only adds to the contemplative mood of this scene. It's a powerful reminder of history and the tales etched in stone.
Images from a few days spent exploring the beauty of the Slovenian countryside in spring.
All images by Alex Berger, please reach out directly for licensing or usage requests.
Find more of my work at alex-berger.com or on virtualwayfarer.com.
Images from a few days spent exploring the beauty of the Slovenian countryside in spring.
All images by Alex Berger, please reach out directly for licensing or usage requests.
Find more of my work at alex-berger.com or on virtualwayfarer.com.
A lone figure walks through high grass beneath a massive setting sun, surrounded by surreal terrain that evokes both ancient worlds and speculative futures. This AI-assisted image by Duncan Rawlinson explores the emotional weight of counterfactual realities—what might have been and what could still be—in a multiverse where past and future blur. The scene captures a timeless pause between decision and destiny, resonating with solitude and scale.A solitary figure moves through tall grass beneath an immense, burning sun, surrounded by a surreal landscape where ancient silhouettes and futuristic forms coexist. This AI-assisted image by Duncan Rawlinson reflects the emotional weight of difficult choices—the kind that split timelines and leave us wondering what might have been. In this imagined world, every step feels like a turning point, suspended between past regrets and unknown futures in a vast multiverse of possibility.
My first visit to Japan was far too brief - just a week to explore Tokyo and Kyoto. And yet, it surpassed my expectations, demolished my preconceptions, and spoiled me with color and vibrancy.
These images do not utilize AI beyond basic de-noising and are original imagery with no items added or removed (such as errant leaves, pieces of trash, or power lines). What you see is as close to the moment as I experienced it.
All images by Alex Berger, please reach out directly for licensing or usage requests.
Find more of my work at alex-berger.com or on virtualwayfarer.com.
My first visit to Japan was far too brief - just a week to explore Tokyo and Kyoto. And yet, it surpassed my expectations, demolished my preconceptions, and spoiled me with color and vibrancy.
These images do not utilize AI beyond basic de-noising and are original imagery with no items added or removed (such as errant leaves, pieces of trash, or power lines). What you see is as close to the moment as I experienced it.
All images by Alex Berger, please reach out directly for licensing or usage requests.
Find more of my work at alex-berger.com or on virtualwayfarer.com.
Clouds drift across a fading sky, their textures shifting between shadow and light. The horizon glows softly beneath the weight of dusk, while trees stand in quiet silhouette. This image captures the stillness between day and night—a moment suspended in thought, where the sky becomes a canvas for reflection.
Photographed by John Knutson – Mystic Wolf Studios.
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