Tina Bell Vance

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Barn Owl

The weathered face of a barn owl, turned to the side, eyes fixed on an unseen point. Its feathers, a tapestry of muted browns and creams, seem to ripple with the quiet wisdom of the woods. There’s a sense of timeless observation in its gaze, as if it has seen the forest rise and fall a thousand times and still waits for the next story to begin.

Photographs — Barn Owl

The weathered face of a barn owl, turned to the side, eyes fixed on an unseen point. Its feathers, a tapestry of muted browns and creams, seem to ripple with the quiet wisdom of the woods. There’s a sense of timeless observation in its gaze, as if it has seen the forest rise and fall a thousand times and still waits for the next story to begin.