Simply Braies by Laura Marchetti
Captured in the serene Pusteria Valley, this photograph of Lake Braies highlights the photographer's ability to find tranquility amidst a popular tourist destination. By navigating the challenges of a crowded landscape, the photographer successfully isolated the lake's ethereal reflections and vibrant colors. The composition is a testament to patience and careful observation, turning a well-known landmark into a personal, atmospheric experience. The image is award-worthy for its masterful balance of light and stillness, effectively conveying the quiet emotion of the moment despite the bustling surroundings.
Laura Marchetti
Born in 1971, Laura Marchetti resides in Syracuse, Italy, where she balances a professional career as a pharmacist with a lifelong devotion to the arts. Since embracing photography in 2018, she has channeled her diverse background in oil painting, drawing, and airbrushing into a unique visual language. Her work serves as a creative sanctuary, allowing her to transform the world around her into an emotional kaleidoscope that reflects her inner perspective and deep appreciation for the unpredictable stages of life.
Resonance Score Breakdown
Transparency Note: The resonance score (6.1/20) is calculated based on social engagement metrics collected before the award announcement.
Expert Photography Reviews · 6
The Weight of Still Water
It is 3:14 am. The house is holding its breath, and for once, I am not trying to fill the silence with noise. We spend our days running toward things, convinced that if we reach the edge of the map, we will finally find the quiet we were promised.
Read the reflection →The Stillness of Deep Water
There is a specific, heavy silence that arrives with the first frost, when the air loses its moisture and the world turns brittle. In the north, we learn to wait for this stillness.
Read the reflection →Reviews & Comments
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Lake Braies is a circus, but you’ve managed to find a quiet corner of the world here. I’ve stood in those crowds myself, feeling nothing but frustration. You waited, though. You let the noise fade until the water turned into a mirror. It’s a relief to see this place without the usual chaos. And honestly? Looking at those reflections makes me want to breathe again. You found the stillness. That’s a rare thing to capture.
Lake Braies is a circus, yet here it’s quiet. I’ve spent enough mornings in the Dolomites to know that achieving this stillness requires arriving long before the first tour bus rolls in. It’s a relief to see a frame that isn’t cluttered by the usual frantic tourism. Marchetti clearly waited out the chaos. It’s a rare, earned solitude that makes me want to pack my gear and head back to the mountains tonight.
Lake Braies is a static subject, but the light here is a sprinter’s start. It’s all about the timing of that reflection. You’ve caught the water at its absolute glass-like zenith, just before a ripple could shatter the symmetry. It’s the perfect millisecond of stillness. I’ve spent my life chasing that exact fraction of a second, and honestly, it makes me hold my breath. You didn’t miss. This is the frame. Not one after.
The wide-angle distortion at 10mm pulls the foreground into a precarious, elongated stretch. It’s a risky choice. The mountain massing creates a heavy, vertical anchor that stabilizes the frame’s inherent instability. While the reflections provide necessary tonal balance, the composition doesn’t quite resolve the tension between the water’s edge and the distant peaks. I’ve seen this lake captured a thousand times, yet the rigid geometry here finally forces me to stop and actually look.
The jagged, limestone teeth of the Dolomites bite into the sky, their reflection dancing on the glassy surface of Lake Braies like a Renaissance fresco. It’s the stillness here that catches my breath; the way the water holds the mountains feels almost sacred. By isolating this quiet geometry from the usual tourist chaos, the photographer turns the landscape into a portrait of solitude. I’ve never seen the Pusteria Valley feel so intimate, so deeply personal. It’s truly haunting.
The water holds the mountains. It’s a mirror, undisturbed by the crowds I know are just beyond the frame. I find myself holding my breath. The stillness here isn’t an absence. It’s a weight. The reflection of the peaks doesn’t just sit on the surface; it anchors the light. Nothing here is accidental. The empty corner is not empty. It’s the silence I’ve been searching for. I’d stay here, if I could.