In this photograph, we are enveloped in a mysterious fog that seems to cover unknown or forgotten stories. Trees, mutilated by time and winds, stand like indomitable heroines of a winter song. Each tree is a separate note in the music of nature. They raise their gnarled hands to the sky in a silent prayer or incantation.

These trees resemble models in an unusual fashion show of nature, where the clothes are not silk or velvet, but every wrinkle of the bark, every bend of broken branches. Their hairstyles are wind sculptures, tousled and uneven, like hair after a wild walk in a storm. The central tree is the main model, whose "bow" shows the aesthetics of woundedness, the broken trunk and branches, which seem to be dressed in nature's most ragged but most sensual costume. The left and right trees are like two companions of this heroine, each of which carries its own special style: one is slightly bent, waving its branches, like long, loose hair, the other is stronger, with a branch sticking out in different directions, like a wild hairstyle, that challenged the whole world.

This fashion show, which takes place in the silence of nature, is devoid of spectators and applause, but this is what adds to its majesty. The trees wear their outfits proudly, like models on a catwalk, each of them has its own character and its own history, carved by years of fighting time and the elements. They are like old sages, stooped and wrinkled, bearing the imprint of changing times, but at the same time maintaining an unshakable dignity in their wild beauty.