Bois de Boulogne reflections
There is a quiet magic in the way water holds the world. It is as though the water becomes a mirror to something deeper. Photographing these reflections is like stepping into a dream—where sky and earth dissolve into one another, and the trees, untethered, sway silently in a world of liquid light. Each image feels like a fleeting memory, half-formed, fragile, yet full of meaning. The stillness of the lake cradles the reflections, but the slightest breeze turns them into impressionist paintings, fleeting and ever-changing, as though nature itself were sketching something transient and true. In this series, I wanted to capture not only the beauty of the natural world but also its fragility. The lake becomes a canvas, but it is a fleeting one, easily erased by a gust of wind or the ripple of a passing bird. This impermanence reminds me of the transient nature of our own lives—how beauty exists not in permanence but in the moments we allow ourselves to truly see.
.











