NocturnEngel

I long for friendships that are made and rise into adulthood, not the fleeting kind that glow for a season and fade, but the ones that anchor themselves quietly, growing roots in the soil of everyday life. I want friends who will teach me how to play poker, and laugh when I bluff too boldly. Friends whose guest room is half mine already, a place where my toothbrush and slippers wait like I never left. Friends who deal the cards between glasses of wine, between board games and long conversations that drift from nonsense to confessions without anyone noticing. Friends who may be older in years, but carry the same youth in their laughter that I feel in my own chest. Friends whose wives and husbands become my own friends too, a circle of warmth that feels less like company, and more like family. I want the kind of friends I can call at strange hours, to carry on a joke from last week as if no time has passed at all. Friends who send me a photo of a song on the radio, a song we once screame...

The lake knows secrets I'll never tell. The birds just listen, and carry them on their wings. Not so long ago, I went to one of the prettiest places I've ever been in. A lake that looked like it belonged to some forgotten dream... still, turquoise, and alive with the flutter of birds and the hush of trees. I chose this as my first post because these are some of my favourite photos I’ve ever taken. Not just for how they look, but for how they made me feel when I was there, and how they make me feel every time I look at them. In this quiet place, surrounded by light and wings and water, I felt… found. Like the world paused just long enough to let me see myself in it. There was something about the way the birds moved... unbothered, free; that stayed with me. The trees reached inward like they knew secrets. The lake didn’t reflect me; it held me. These are fragments of that stillness, of that softness. A beginning, not loud but true.