Listening to Wonder
倾听奇迹之声
Escuchando el asombro
My shadow, head resting on the round yellow flower bush—listening.
No stars. No heavens.
Just the stillness of earth holding the weight of wonder.
我的影子，头靠着圆形黄色花丛，在倾听。
无星辰，无天堂，
只有大地静谧承载着满怀的惊奇。
Mi sombra, la cabeza apoyada sobre el arbusto redondo de flores amarillas—escuchando.
No hay estrellas. No hay cielos.
Solo la quietud de la tierra sosteniendo el peso del asombro.
Sometimes, the most personal thoughts arrive not as answers,
but as quiet questions—
especially when I pause, camera in hand, before the unknown.
I once believed that when I die, I’d drift through the universe—
past stars, moons, silence—
and finally discover the truth.
Who created this. Why it exists. If any of it matters.
But perhaps truth isn’t something we reach.
Perhaps it’s something we carry.
Even now.
Even here,
beside a round, flowering bush on a sunny day—
its shape echoing the wholeness of planets,
or the completeness of a question.
And it suddenly dawned on me:
Maybe the reason we don’t know the answer
is because the question itself keeps us searching.
If every mystery were solved,
would we lose our sense of wonder?
Perhaps it’s the not-knowing that keeps us looking up,
listening,
and caring.
The question is not just a puzzle to be solved,
but a companion that keeps our minds and hearts open.
Sometimes, the question itself is enough.
Photo Reflection: Listening to Wonder
A self-portrait beside a round yellow flower bush.
My shadow, present in the sunlight, beside the flowering bush.
No stars. No heavens.
Just the stillness of earth holding the weight of wonder.
Poem: After
After
When I die,
I drift.
Not to rest,
but to search.
The stars do not sing—
they listen.
The dark does not comfort—
it watches.
I pass through veils of light,
past frozen moons
and galaxies
like shattered chandeliers.
And then:
a silence deeper
than silence.
A stillness
older than time.
There,
something waits.
Not a god,
not a voice—
but a presence
like truth
before it was spoken.
I do not ask.
It does not answer.
But I know.
And in knowing,
I am no longer
afraid.
Technical Notes
- Camera: Canon R5 Mark II
- Lens: Canon EF 85mm f/1.8 USM
- Settings: f/2.5, ISO 100, 1/320s
- Light: Soft natural sunlight, casting a clear shadow
- Why this setup: The 85mm focal length lets me observe quietly, compressing the scene just enough to highlight the round bush and my shadow without distraction. Shooting at f/2.5 gently blurs the background, keeping the focus on the stillness of the moment and the subtle textures of the flowers.
- Mood: Quiet awe, presence, and wonder
On Creativity and Expression
I’d never seen a self-portrait quite like this before—
my shadow cast on a round, flowering bush,
blending my presence with the earth’s quiet wonder.
Maybe someone else has tried it,
but for me, it felt like discovering a new way to reflect:
both literally and figuratively.
This photograph is a reminder of why I love photography—
not just to capture what I see,
but to find new ways to express what I feel and wonder.
Each experiment,
each moment of curiosity,
brings me closer to my own unique vision.
I’m grateful for the happiness that comes
from creating something that feels truly my own.
Sometimes, standing in the hush of an ordinary day,
I realize:
The stillness, the question, and the light are all I need.
You can find more reflections like this under my Reflections series.
- For a deeper dive into how stars form and die, NASA has a great introduction here.
- This photo was taken with a Canon R5 Mark II — see specs on Canon’s official site.