Counting 584,400 Days
Adrien Bressan

The Silent Witness

In the heart of Brijuni, where time dances to the rhythm of ancient whispers, stands a sentinel of ages’ past—the silent witness. An old olive tree, with its branches reaching skyward like outstretched arms, bears the weight of centuries in its weathered bark. From the days of Roman conquest to the modern era, it has stood steadfast, a living testament to the passage of time.

In the stillness of dawn, as the first light kisses its leaves, the tree remembers. It remembers the laughter of children playing beneath its boughs, the tender embrace of lovers seeking solace in its shade. It remembers the rise and fall of empires, the shifting tides of history that have shaped the land around it.

But what stories does it hold within its silent embrace? What secrets lie buried beneath its roots, waiting to be unearthed by those who dare to listen? As we stand in awe of this ancient guardian, we cannot help but wonder: what tales does the silent witness long to share?

And so, with each step forward, we embark on a journey into the heart of Brijuni, guided by the wisdom of the silent witness. For in its silent gaze, we find not only the echoes of the past, but also the promise of a future yet unwritten.

Memory

In the fabric of time, the silent witness holds memories like pages in a book. With each sunrise and sunset, the tree stands tall, watching the play of light and shadow. Through our camera lens, we capture memories unfolding—a time-lapse from dawn to dusk. Each moment tells a story, a testament to the tree’s enduring presence.

In twilight’s quiet, echoes of the past emerge. Shadows dance on the forest floor, whispering ancient secrets. Under the stars, the silent witness stands, its branches reaching upward. As we explore memories, we wonder: what stories remain untold? What truths linger in the depths of time? And how will the silent witness help us understand?

Care

In the gentle breeze, the silent witness finds comfort, its branches swaying with gratitude for the care it receives. Amidst Brijuni’s beauty, the tree stands strong, bearing the marks of time. With our camera, we zoom in to see the care—a concrete wound, a sign of respect for its heritage. We witness caretakers tending to the tree, ensuring its well-being.

But care is not just in crises. We see the roots anchoring the tree, drawing nourishment from the earth. And in the light and shadow, we see life—the shoots growing from the bark. As we zoom out, we remember the balance between humans and nature. What will our legacy be? And how will the silent witness shape Brijuni’s future?

Veiled Realities

In the misty memories, the silent witness holds the truth amid the stories of time. Here, the tree sees through the layers of human stories on Brijuni. With blurry images and rising sounds, we reveal hidden truths. Here, among whispers, we face the stories told—a picture-perfect past.

Through our lens, we capture the uncertainty—the mix of truth and tale. In the silence of the old olive tree, we find comfort in nature’s strength. As the soundscape rises, we are left with a sense of awe and wonder. What truths lie buried beneath the surface? And how will the silent witness continue to shape the narrative of Brijuni?