From the stillness of the river, they emerge, silhouettes of giants bathed in liquid gold. The sun sinks low behind them, painting the water in ripples of fire and reflection. Each elephant moves with unhurried grace, their shapes mirrored in the current like memories drifting downstream.
The air is heavy with heat and the scent of dust and waterweed. A heron cuts across the sky, and for a moment, all sound folds into silence, just the soft splash of trunks, the low rumble of contentment, the heartbeat of the wild winding down with the day.
In this light, the elephants are eternal, guardians of the river, keepers of the fading sun.
From the stillness of the river, they emerge, silhouettes of giants bathed in liquid gold. The sun sinks low behind them, painting the water in ripples of fire and reflection. Each elephant moves with unhurried grace, their shapes mirrored in the current like memories drifting downstream.
The air is heavy with heat and the scent of dust and waterweed. A heron cuts across the sky, and for a moment, all sound folds into silence, just the soft splash of trunks, the low rumble of contentment, the heartbeat of the wild winding down with the day.
In this light, the elephants are eternal, guardians of the river, keepers of the fading sun.
