**“This image is visual poetry with mud in the margins. The old man’s face — carved by time, focused as if in dialogue with God or his own conscience — merges with the landscape, which isn’t a backdrop but an extension of his thoughts.
The rain isn’t decorative. It binds everything: age, soil, memory. And those hands — not praying, but bracing for something harsher, maybe reckoning.
This isn’t an image you ‘like’. It’s one that stays under your eyelids.