SOLO
Nosara, Costa Rica
A lone cloud hangs like a scar across the fading sky. The horizon burns in bruised tones—amber bleeding into violet. It’s the kind of silence that feels sharp, untouchable.
Nosara, Costa Rica
A lone cloud hangs like a scar across the fading sky. The horizon burns in bruised tones—amber bleeding into violet. It’s the kind of silence that feels sharp, untouchable.