#landscapeexposurenetwork

Ozalj in Mist – Footsteps of an Old Tale

Mist draped the Kupa this morning as if the river itself wished to speak softly. Every ripple felt like a whispered memory, every curve of the shore a half-forgotten chapter.

Ozalj rose from the haze not as a place, but as a feeling — quiet, ancient, steady. A bridge between footsteps long gone and the quiet breath of a new day.

Sun Behind the Clouds, Evening Before the Harbor

Some evenings hold back the light just a little longer… A boat glides home, the sea remembers the sun, and the clouds — like tired giants — close their eyes for the night.