The Landscape by Savannah Weaver

Dull browns, greens, and blue cover the landscape. The details blend together, adding a blurry surface to the portrait. There’s a path leading towards a wall of trees, heading nowhere and everywhere at once. A short wooden fence stands to the left. It sags. A lone cabin stands to the right, with nothing special to define it. Vast mountains stand in the background, caging in the valley where the portrait resides. All alone, in the middle of a utopia, the clearing holds no meaning at a first glance. Nothing special stands out. Then, the longer eyes stare at it, the colors become sharp and bright. A deeper meaning of the space begins to form in the mind, and at that moment the portrait becomes more than a portrait, but a symbol of something that can only be seen with an unclouded gaze.