Phone Photography Contest #50 || Hidden Beauty in Leaves

I photograph a plant that has no flowers, just densely packed leaves, as if forming a crown for itself. There are no colorful, fragrant petals to draw attention to at all. But somewhere there is a more subtle beauty--a spreading green, soft in the morning light, quivering gently when the wind touches it. It lives in silence, growing ceaselessly, without being forced to be like others.

In a flower pot, in a corner of an institution's courtyard, the plant grows amidst the shadows of the walls and the refraction of light spilling from between other leaves. It does not need more space, nor does it demand special emphasis that benefits it. With just a few drops of water and a little sunlight, its ability to continue growing is unimpeded. Perhaps that is the meaning of beauty--living in simplicity. It does not display its charm that can entertain all your senses at once; instead, it remains calm and therefore elegant.

Every time I press the shutter, I feel like I am capturing a story that is more than a shot. It is as if the narrative is locked in every vein of its leaves or the curl of its flexible yet sturdy stem. It teaches that not everything beautiful has to shine; that life without changing itself or losing its essence is also beauty. Sometimes simplicity that is neglected is beauty itself and does not need to blush like a rose or radiate like a jasmine blooms.

I put away my camera and look at it one last time. Perhaps, in a world where everything should look more stunning, it teaches something different: that being yourself, growing without forcing yourself, and living a situation without sacrificing one's essence is what is valuable. I leave, perhaps with the memory of leaves that lived as flowers rooted in my mind.