our origin images on our postcards weren’t found; they were gathered, gradually, without deadline, without hurry over several harvests.

taken on walks where coffees thrive but are rarely encountered: the forests of Kalatungan, the edges of Natib, the ridgelines of Benguet. Each captured at a pace that allowed for stillness—moments when the light shifted just enough, or when the land felt momentarily aware of being seen.

some were taken during early hikes with growers. others during quiet returns, years apart. a few were taken alone—on pauses between tasks, before leaving, or while remembering what once grew in isolation, in silence.

these intervals are often unwitnessed, the way liminal spaces tend to be. most of what happens between harvests goes unseen, unspoken. but these photographs are a kind of archive of the rare convergences the search for coffee has gifted us with. 

keepsakes of places journeyed with reverence.