Under an emerald sky, the hills of Auckland stretch in endless waves of green. Two sheep, like solitary souls, graze in silence, lost in the vastness of this landscape. They move gently, their silhouettes blending into the softness of the grass, bathed in the golden morning light.
The traces left by time gently mark the land, echoes of countless travelers’ footsteps, or perhaps the breezes that have caressed these hills for centuries. Each blade of grass seems to shimmer in the daylight, capturing the essence of New Zealand’s tranquility.
Here, nature reigns supreme, still and eternal, while the distant city feels like a faint whisper, erased by the serenity of these rolling landscapes
