In a quiet, sunny afternoon, by the pool, the legs cross naturally, the feet touch the warm water, the sunglasses rest on the nose, a book open in the hand, a fishing lemonade placed next door. It is a silent statement: that of the body that abandons itself to quietness, of the spirit that allows itself to breathe.

Here, there is only the softness of the moment, the velvet of silence, the warmth on the skin, the song of birds.