Sergio 📷🔭🌲

@sergiospototo.com

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Forest wanderer. All photos are mine unless it's an Rt. Amateur Astrophotgrapher. Infrared 680 nm. Sometimes gamer and simracer😅, sometimes gardener 📸Nikon D750 - Nikon D3100 IR mod Prints > https://sergiospototo.com https://linktr.ee/sergio_aragon

The Petronas Twin Towers rise above Kuala Lumpur as a symbol of modern Malaysia, steel and light shaped into something almost timeless. At night, they glow in warm, golden tones, emerging into the dark sky like twin structures forged from light itself. From below, the city pulls your gaze upward. Not always to the stars… but to what we’ve built in their place. Between symmetry and scale, there’s a quiet reminder: we don’t just live beneath the sky, sometimes, we redefine it.
The sun, heavy with the day it carries, melts into the edge of the Adaman sea, spilling fire across a sky that slowly surrenders to dusk. Above that quiet farewell, a drifting parasail floats like a fragile thought between worlds, two silhouettes suspended between light and shadow. The ocean darkens, the sky deepens, and for a brief, unrepeatable moment, everything seems to pause… as if the horizon itself were breathing, and time had chosen to stand still.
A long-tailed macaque mother sits on a forest branch, calmly feeding while her infant clings to her side. Just a few meters away, both glance toward the me with quiet curiosity, neither alarmed nor disturbed. The young one reaches out with a small, tentative hand, as if exploring the presence before them. In the soft green light of the Malaysian jungle, the moment captures a rare balance, wildness continuing undisturbed. When you feel you're part of them
A Horsfield’s Baron (Tanaecia iapis) rests on a tropical leaf, its wings displaying a deep contrast between dark brown tones and a vivid blue band, quietly blending into the layered light of the Malaysian forest.
A baby monkey plenty of curiosity sorrounded by all the green leaves. They're so curious and very used to people, maybe too much. His pretty face is totally chef by the sunlight, while he's looking where will be the next game he'll do
Perched high among broad banana leaves, a young long tailed macaque pauses mid-bite, holding a half-peeled fruit as if time itself had gently tapped his shoulder. The jungle wraps around him in deep, breathing greens, layered, humid, alive, yet he sits in perfect stillness, suspended between instinct and awareness. Soft, filtered light brushes his fur, revealing delicate textures against the smooth, sweeping curves of the leaves, feeling nature rising around him like a cathedral of foliage. The pale yellow of the banana quietly interrupts the sea of green, a small, human echo in an otherwise untamed world.
A human (me) and his loved fur, contemplating the beauty of the Pyrenees
Beneath the frozen silence of Esterri d’Àneu, the Pyrenean mountains rise like sleeping giants, carved in shadow against a freshly washed sky. The night is not black, it is a deep, mineral blue, scattered with stars that seem to breathe. In the valley, small human lights flicker modestly, as if asking permission from the firmament. Above, the universe unfolds without haste. Below, the earth rests.
A red kite cuts across the open sky, wings fully extended in a display of effortless command. Suspended in perfect balance, it carries its prey firmly in its talons, a reminder that grace and survival are inseparable in the wild. The light brushes its russet feathers with warmth, revealing the intricate patterns beneath its wings. Every line of its body speaks of precision, the slight curve of the tail, the steady gaze, the quiet power in its flight.
In the stillness of the blue hour, the Noguera Pallaresa River glides quietly through Guingueta d’Àneu, holding the last light of the day like a secret. Snow-dusted peaks rise in the distance, their summits brushed with the fading glow of sunset, while the valley slowly surrenders to twilight. The watermoves so slowly that becomes a mirror, reflecting mountains, bare winter trees, and the deepening sky. Shadows settle along the riverbanks, and the world seems to pause between day and night, suspended, weightless, almost breathless. There is no rush here. Only the gentle transition of light and the silence of the last light of the day.
A small ember of winter rests upon the edge of the roof. Pippo, yes, him, the faithful visitor, stands there as if he has been placed gently by a careful hand. The rain had passed not long before; the air still remembers it. Everything feels rinsed, hushed, tender. The world behind him dissolves into a creamy blur, as though reality itself has softened to let him remain sharp, present, undeniable. His chest burns with that quiet orange glow, a living coal against the muted browns and silvers of a damp afternoon. He is round, composed, unafraid. Not frozen, simply still. Watching. And there, upon his small crown, three droplets rest like a delicate diadem. Three tiny glass beads, balanced with improbable grace. They do not weigh him down. They crown him, like a woodland sovereign wearing rain instead of gold. The blurred lights to the left shimmer like distant memories of the rain, suspended in time, as if the sky had forgotten to collect its tears.
Soft almond blossoms glow in the warm light, their pale petals almost translucent against the darker background. The branches are still bare of leaves, thin and delicate, crisscrossing gently through the frame. Each flower has a subtle blush of pink at its center, adding warmth to the creamy white petals. The shallow depth of field blurs the background into a smooth haze, making the blossoms appear luminous and fragile. An early promise of spring suspended in the fading light.
Two Eurasian collared doves stand face to face on a sunlit ledge, their bodies angled toward each other with quiet symmetry. Their soft beige plumage catches the warm light, revealing subtle patterns in the feathers, while the delicate black collar at the nape of their necks gives each bird its unmistakable signature. Their red eyes meet at close range, and for a brief instant, their beaks nearly touch. The background dissolves into a smooth wash of green, isolating the pair in a moment that feels both intimate and seasonal. The light is gentle, shaping their forms without harshness, as if the air itself had softened for them.
A wide view of a part of Kuala Lumpur.ñ, with Istana Negarà castle on the front, and the imponent skyline on the background.
A European goldfinch balances delicately on the slender stems of hierba cana, its body tilted forward in a precise act of trust and instinct. Wings half open, it turns itself into a living counterweight, revealing flashes of yellow and black that catch the sunlight like a brief flare of fire. Nothing here is static: this is equilibrium in motion. The fragile plant bends under the bird’s weight, yet does not break. Seed heads tremble as the goldfinch reaches for them with practiced ease, extracting nourishment from what most would overlook. This is an ancient agreement between bird and weed, repeated countless times, unnoticed, essential.
The tiny firecrest having a shower. They love to go directly under the water fall😆
Benny, the Sardinian warbler, emerges half-hidden among the blades of grass, as if the light itself had decided to reveal him only in part. The low sun filters through the long, sharp leaves, drawing golden lines across the scene and wrapping the bird in an old, almost ritual play of light and shadow. His reddish eye, alert and inquisitive, betrays the small hunter at work, patiently scanning the ground in search of tiny prey. Behind him, the rough base of an olive tree trunk anchors the scene. Its earthy texture contrasts with the vibrant green foreground, turning the image into something intimate and grounded. Nothing is fully exposed, and that is where the magic lies: nature does not display itself, it whispers. Benny does not pose, he belongs. And in that quiet, half-concealed presence, an entire way of being is revealed: discreet, precise, and deeply free.
Perched lightly among the slender branches of a jasmine plant, a goldcrest rests for a fleeting moment. Its tiny body, round and almost weightless, seems borrowed from the air itself. A soft yellow stripe crowns its head, catching the light against the cool blue background, while its dark, alert eye reflects the quiet awareness of the forest. The jasmine branches weave a delicate lattice around the bird, their thin stems, buds and sparse leaves framing the scene without enclosing it. Everything feels suspended, as if time had slowed to match the fragility of the moment. The shallow depth of field melts the background into gentle blues and greens, allowing the goldcrest to emerge as a clear, luminous presence. A brief pause in the undergrowth, where the smallest bird in the forest meets the subtle elegance of jasmine, reminding us that true beauty often whispers, and disappears, just as softly as it arrived.
After the rain, the moon rises and claims the scene. Its light falls from the side, slow and deliberate, bathing the landscape in silver. An old asphalt road stretches forward, still wet, transformed into a luminous ribbon, no longer just a path, but a quiet passage of light. The puddles scattered along it become small mirrors, holding the moon within them. A low dry-stone wall follows the curve of the road, rough and patient, a reminder of hands that once placed each stone with purpose, a carob tree stands firm at the edge of the path, its dark silhouette anchoring the scene, guarding the entrance to this nocturnal corridor. In the distance, a thin band of clouds rests just above the treetops, softening the horizon, as if the sky itself were pausing to watch. The sky shines in blue, with the bright moon illuminating it, bit still some stars want to shine. Everything is familiar, a road, a tree, a wall.. and yet nothing feels ordinary. Under the moon’s glow, the wet ground becomes a path of silver, almost magical, inviting the eye to follow it forward, not knowing exactly where it leads. A moment suspended between rain and silence, where the night reveals how light can turn the simplest place into something quietly sacred.
In the quiet of the night, small magenta flowers rise delicately from the ground, their color glowing softly against the darkness. The light is gentle and selective, touching only what needs to be seen, leaving the rest to dissolve into shadow. Each petal feels intentional, almost intimate, as if the flower were revealing itself only to those willing to look closely. The background melts into warm, distant points of light, the soft bokeh like far-off embers, suggesting a world that continues beyond the frame, blurred and hushed. The shallow depth of field turns the scene into a whisper rather than a statement, guiding the eye toward the fragile beauty standing firm in the foreground. There is resilience here: life blooming quietly at night thought the road, unnoticed by most, yet fully alive. A reminder that beauty does not always announce itself, sometimes it simply waits, glowing softly, in the dark.
A small blue tit pauses on a bare branch, like a brief note written in the margin of the sky. The blue above is clean and deep, almost absolute; it does not compete, it embraces. Against this vast clarity, the bird seems to suspend time itself, light, alert, its chest washed in yellow like an early whisper of spring. Everything is simple, and therefore beautiful. The sunlight strikes from the side, shaping the scene with a quiet play of light and shadow, giving volume to the bird and a gentle depth to the moment.
A hint of the Mediterranean sea is showing up between high pine trees and different trees in between that gives a palette of greens. The sky, between blue and white hues, shows a shining light that is reflected on the sea, drawing silhouettes of the further trees
A little European female stonechat looking with surprise the snow falling perched on a bush near the vineyards, probably for the first time in her life. Una pequeña hembra de tarabilla común observa los copos de nieve caer mientras se posa en lo alto de un arbusto a los pies de los viñedo, seguramente viendo nieve por primera vez en su vida
Comet 3I/ATLAS moving at a high relative speed with respect to us, considering the distance it has already reached on its way out of the Solar System. An object that arrived from within the Milky Way and, due to its interstellar nature, has sparked all kinds of speculation and that the sky finally allowed me to capture. A time lapse spanning 2.5 hours, taken on December 31st between 1:30 and 4:00 a.m., of an object that may not leave behind an epic postcard, but certainly leaves many unanswered questions as it continues its infinite journey toward new suns.
A quiet night landscape after the rain. The sky has cleared, revealing a soft scatter of stars above the dark outline of the forest. Below, the land remains heavy and damp, holding on to the night’s moisture. A small stream runs along the lower left of the frame, barely visible in the darkness, reflecting faint traces of light as it winds through the vegetation. Trees stand still on either side, framing a moment of calm after the weather has passed.
A turtle dove shelters from the rain, perched quietly on a bare branch. Raindrops cling to its feathers, darkening the soft greys and browns of its plumage. The bird remains still, eyes half-closed, conserving warmth and energy as the weather passes. The blurred background strips the scene down to its essentials: bird, rain, and patience. There is no drama here, only calm endurance. A small, everyday moment that speaks of resilience and quiet coexistence with the elements.
A little chiffchaff perched gravely looking for something lost maybe? Un pequeño mosquitero con la mirada atenta, vivaces como ellos son!
Above the silent hills of Vespella de Gaià, under the ancient gaze of its castle, Comet C/2025 A6 (Lemmon) drifts across the autumn sky. A fragile trail of ice and dust, shining where human light fades into the cosmic night. This image is a stack of 50 exposures, each 25 seconds long, revealing the comet’s faint tail and the steadfast brilliance of the stars. Nikon D750 at 24mm f1.8
A little Sparrow is stepping on a rock inside a fountain while she's looking at the camera with a fancy pose.
A ribbon of the Brugent River tumbles over moss-clad stones, weaving light and shadow beneath a summer canopy. Cool water murmurs its way through the green hush, a quiet rebellion against the day’s burning heat
The air hums with the slow rhythm of summer. Two sparrows, companions in thirst and idleness, share an improvised oasis: an enamel basin holding onto its coolness like a treasured secret. The one on the left, fluffed up and serene, lets the sun dry its feathers, while the other, with its back turned, tests the water with cautious feet, as if deciding whether to dive in. Behind them, a Moorish mosaic sets the stage with ancient colors and patterns, a quiet reminder that beauty lingers even in the humblest corners.
A young goldfinch perches patiently on a small branch of a rose bush, its soft plumage still dressed in muted shades of gray and brown, awaiting the return of its mother. The delicate leaves beneath, a blend of fresh green and tender reddish hues, cradle the bird in a quiet embrace. Its head tilts slightly to the left, eyes fixed with calm anticipation, as faint hints of yellow peek through the wings, a promise of the vibrant colors yet to come. Behind, a softly blurred stone wall forms a muted backdrop, emphasizing the fragile beauty of this moment without distraction. Though the mother is out of sight, her presence lingers invisibly, felt in the young bird’s patient wait and watchful gaze.
Between the purple threads of blooming flowers, a bee draped in golden pollen moves with quiet devotion. In the macro world, every hair on her head, every curve of her antennae, is etched in delicate clarity. Some filaments blur into dreamy shapes, others stand sharp beneath her tiny feet, offering both stage and sustenance. Behind her, the deep green of distant leaves fades into a soft shadow, like a calm canvas for her fleeting, luminous labor.
A cute , but big rat eating Seeds from the plate. She's so focused enjoying the meal
Among the weary petals of a waning summer, a tiny heart beats, hungry. A young goldfinch, or perhaps she, quiet and serene, clings to the golden crown of the sunflower as if she’s found a hidden treasure. Seed by seed, the world narrows to a simple act: to feed, to exist, to be part of the cycle. There are moments like this. They don’t shout. They don’t knock. But they stay
One of my last vegan travel companions, a resilient bumblebee from the hive box that’s been with me for two months now. Perched calmly on the Daisy I'm holding, wings slightly trembling, eyes alert yet trusting. Complicity in a single frame. Trust made visible.
Beneath a river of stars, the hillside sleeps. Dry grasses and scattered stones trace a winding path upward, leading the eye toward the silhouettes of Mediterranean pines, patiently watching the sky. The night is alive but hushed, only the faint hum of the earth and the rustle of a breeze through dry branches. Overhead, a streak of light carves the darkness, a plane, or perhaps a wish in motion, while the stars draw constellations, holding their quiet vigil. This is a moment held in stillness, where the earth and the cosmos seem to breathe in unison.
Perched delicately on a vibrant spike of purple loosestrife, a white butterfly (probably a pieris rapae) rests, its wings closed like soft parchment, revealing just a single dark spot. It sips nectar in quiet stillness, while just above, a bee hovers mid-air, its tiny body caught in motion, suspended in the invisible rhythm of summer. The contrast is gentle but striking: the butterfly’s pale fragility against the vivid fuchsia bloom, the bee’s hum silent in the image but almost audible to the heart. The background melts into a smooth green blur, allowing this tiny, fleeting encounter, flower, butterfly and bee.. to hold the stage like nature’s own theatre of grace.
a dragonfly with ethereal wings clings to a slender stem, as if it were a beacon amid the whispering green. Its body, fragile yet precise, seems sculpted from mist and reflection, with eyes that hold entire skies within. The wings, translucent as dawn’s dreams, catch the light and scatter it in flickers, among blurred blades of grass that paint a scene of serenity and wonder.
In the foreground, dry shrubs stand motionless, like brittle whispers caught in a breathless pause. Behind them, shadows of trees emerge softly, veiled by the night’s hush. But it is the sky that commands the scene.. a sky torn in two. The storm brews: electric blue clouds swell with silent fury, and brief flashes of lightning flicker like secret thoughts behind a curtain, while a warm, reddish haze climbs upward.. not the glow of sunset, but the echo of a distant city, its light pollution bleeding into the clouds like forgotten fire. There's no moon, no breeze, Only the hushed tension of a world suspended, waiting for the storm to speak.
The waters of the Verdouble River flow slow and clear, laying bare the textures of the rocky bed with an honesty only nature knows. There is no noise, only the whisper of leaves and the soft echo of water caressing stone. The banks, draped in wild vegetation, invite rest, and let time dissolve. In the distance, the hills wear a deep green, like silent guardians of this untouched corner. A place that asks for nothing, only your presence. And in that stillness… beauty.
Amid the soft petals of a daisy, a wasp dances with fierce elegance. Its black-and-golden body, both warning and artwork,curves over the yellow heart of the flower, where it finds a feast of nectar and secrets. The blurred background, a sea of daisies, framed with green and sof pink.
Beneath the dense canopy, where sunlight shyly filters through the leaves, the Verdouble River guards its secret. A hidden haven of stillness, where the water, calm as an ancient mirror, reflects the soul of the mountain. From above, the carved stone of an old bridge peeks through the branches like a silent sentinel, witness to centuries. Rock, moss, the murmur of water… all sing in whispers to those who know how to listen.
Close Up of a sunflower on It's last stage
A Two-tailed pasha butterfly (Charaxes jasius) clings vertically to a branch, its wings closed to reveal an exquisite pattern of white, orange, and earthy brown stripes, as if delicately brushed by hand. Its markings resemble tribal art, contrasting vividly against the blurred green background, highlighting every intricate detail. A guardian of the fig tree, she stands her ground, so fierce despite her size that she dares to chase away birds many times larger than herself. In this still moment, she appears to guard ancient secrets of the Mediterranean forest, wrapped in camouflage as striking as it is effective. Nature’s art!
Some Big lobulated leafs of a small papaya tree growing between peppers. Why? Because when they start, both are sooo similar, until the first real leafs are showing.
The Milky Way, shining bright over Maisons, región d'Aude on France. Timelapse made from 175 photos. And yes! The frogs are original sound🐸😂
On a rocky hilltop, the windmill of Cucugnan raises its conical hat to the wind, as if still longing to duel with Don Quixote’s dreams. The surrounding landscape, the golden vineyards, cypresses standing guard, and rooftops huddled shyly, breathes an ancient calm, one only southern France grants when sun and clouds quarrel over the sky. A scene where history and earth join hands, and though the windmill no longer turns, it still tells stories with every stone.
the Milky Way, rising in full splendor above a tranquil riverbank, where the frogs sing loud as they wants to Talk to the stars. And they, the stars, shimmer densely across the sky, revealing the galaxy’s core with extraordinary clarity and depth. Below, a peaceful mirror of water reflects the surrounding trees, the faint hues of the night sky, the stars.. creating a poetic dialogue between the heavens and the earth, just broken by the wind, that wanted to be part of this magic moment. The entire scene is bathed in serenity, as if time itself had paused to admire the cosmos, from the space to the waters. Stack of 175 photos x 25s. Somewhere in the Pyrenees Orientals, France.
a scarce swallowtail butterfly (Iphiclides podalirius) perched delicately on a thin branch. Its wings are fully extended, showcasing a striking pattern of pale cream and bold black stripes, with elegant blue and orange eye spots near the tail. The butterfly's long tail-like extensions curve gracefully downward. The blurred background of soft greens evokes the quiet stillness of nature, making the butterfly appear almost suspended in air, as if inviting the viewer to take flight with it.
A dreamlike long-exposure photograph of Padern Castle, touched by warm amber and emerald lights, standing sentinel atop the rugged hill. The rising moon, not yet full, drapes itself in soft, mysterious clouds that seem to brush the ancient stones like whispered memories. Below, the calm waters of the Verdoble River lie perfectly still, as if holding their breath to mirror the castle and moonlight with reverence. A harmony of night, nature, and history unfolds under a violet sky, where silence speaks and light tells stories.
A bumblebee tightly nestled inside a yellow watermelon flower, its fuzzy black and yellow body embraced by the delicate petals. The background is softly blurred, emphasizing the tender interaction between insect and blossom. Like a velvet engine of life, the bumblebee clings to the heart of the watermelon flower, both hidden and held in a yellow cradle of pollen and light.
The Milky Way, spilling across the night sky like a celestial river, glittering with ancient light. Below, the Castle of Padern, once a proud defender of noble times, glows gently atop its rugged hill. But now, beneath the infinite expanse of stars, it stands humbled.. its grandeur diminished by the vastness of the cosmos. In a quiet act of reverence, the village of Padern turns off its lights at midnight, letting the heavens take center stage. The sky becomes a cathedral, the stars its silent choir, and the land below... a listening pilgrim. A portrait of awe, where human history bows to the eternal rhythm of the universe. Panoramic composition, 2 photographs x25s ISO1600