The buzzard doesn’t fight the wind; he leans into it until the air itself becomes a staircase.

From my workbench, where the wood still holds the heat of the afternoon sun, I watched a solitary buzzard catch a thermal over the Veluwe woods. There is such a quiet strength in that circling—no frantic flapping, just a wide, steady grace that trusts the invisible currents to lift him higher. It reminded me of how we often struggle against the resistance in our own creative process when we should be looking for the flow.
I’ve been trying to bring that same sense of effortless freedom into my latest digital compositions, blending the raw texture of the bark I found this morning with the soft, golden lichtspel of the horizon. Finding that balance feels truly prachtig, like a conversation between the heavy earth and the open sky. When you feel the wind changing in your own life, do you fight against it, or do you let it carry you to a new perspective?