Reciprocal Terrain

<p>The mountain does not stand behind the flowers—it blooms through them. Its summit blushes in the same register as the petals below, as if geology has learned the language of botany. In this symbio-surreal exchange, scale collapses and time folds inward. The blossoms rise like miniature plateaus; the plateau softens into a crown of petals. Land and flora borrow each other’s anatomy, trading mass for delicacy, permanence for breath. What appears as landscape becomes organism. What appears as foreground becomes origin. The mountain is not above the flowers—it is remembering how to flower.</p>