balearic .-
PHOTOGRAPHY
There was a summer when time seemed to loosen its grip.
Days unfolded over crystal waters, where the boat became our home and the horizon, our only compass. We drifted between Ibiza and Formentera, anchoring in the quiet embrace of Cala Saona, the music of Beso and Duo echoing faintly across the breeze.
Golden sunsets painted the deck in silence and laughter alike. It was a voyage of friendship, of salt-kissed skin and endless skies — a brief chapter where life existed only in the sway of the sea and the glow of fading light.
We swam among turquoise fish, our bodies drifting as freely as our thoughts. The sea became our refuge, and each sunset our silent witness.
Sailboats turned into silhouettes of dreams, and laughter spilled like waves against the deck.
The nights carried music, stories, and the soft blur of wine — enough to let go, to feel infinite, to belong nowhere and everywhere at once.
