The Seagull And The Sentinel

In front of the solemn geometry of a royal palace in Oslo, the eye is drawn not to the grand columns or orderly facade, but to the understated absurdity playing out on the forecourt.

To the far right, a sentinel paces with ceremonial rigour — upright, focused, unyielding. His role is one of symbol and service: a visible reminder of authority, history, and order. But his dedication unfolds before an almost entirely empty square.

Almost.

Because to the left, alone and unconcerned, a seagull meanders across the open expanse. It neither salutes nor flees. It simply exists — indifferent to the weight of flags, uniforms, or palatial power.

This photograph quietly inverts the notion of significance. One figure performs purpose; the other ignores it. And in the vast emptiness between them, the image asks: what is duty without audience? What is power without the need to exercise it?

Sometimes, the only witness to the rituals of state is a creature who cares not at all. And yet, both keep walking their respective paths.