PITAS

In Cabo de Gata, agaves rise like sculptures shaped by the wind—slender, elegant forms traced with the patience of the sun. Their leaves, in soft pastel tones, hold scars that time has turned into art.

Every mark, every crack, every line forms an unintentional drawing, as if the plant spoke in a secret language. There’s a mix of strength and softness in their rough skin, in their steady silhouette against the sky.

Photographing agaves is to discover hidden beauty in what is dry, in what endures, in what transforms the landscape simply by existing.