26th-27th July 2014
Mist on 3 Ape (Waters) Lake
There’s a kind of magic that only happens when the fog rolls in, and on that early morning near Brebu Nou, by the still waters of Trei Ape, we went chasing it.
It wasn’t a grand plan.. just a quiet hope that nature might surprise us. The air was chilly, the forest still half-asleep, and the road twisted through damp pine trees like a secret waiting to be told. We arrived just as the first fingers of light tried to pierce through the dense, silvery fog that blanketed the landscape.
The lake looked like it had been plucked from a dream..muted colors, blurred outlines, and a soft silence broken only by our footsteps and camera shutters. Every tree, every rock, every reflection seemed to hold its breath. We wandered slowly, soaking in the quiet spectacle, trying to capture the feeling as much as the view.
It was the kind of morning you don’t chase often, but when you do, and you find it, you know you’ve been somewhere special. And you carry that stillness with you, long after the fog lifts.
It wasn’t a grand plan.. just a quiet hope that nature might surprise us. The air was chilly, the forest still half-asleep, and the road twisted through damp pine trees like a secret waiting to be told. We arrived just as the first fingers of light tried to pierce through the dense, silvery fog that blanketed the landscape.
The lake looked like it had been plucked from a dream..muted colors, blurred outlines, and a soft silence broken only by our footsteps and camera shutters. Every tree, every rock, every reflection seemed to hold its breath. We wandered slowly, soaking in the quiet spectacle, trying to capture the feeling as much as the view.
It was the kind of morning you don’t chase often, but when you do, and you find it, you know you’ve been somewhere special. And you carry that stillness with you, long after the fog lifts.
