The Infinite Canopy: Between Earth and Sky

Claude Monet’s  Poplars on the Banks of the Epte (1891) is a rhythmic composition where slender trees rise against the sky, their golden reflections rippling upon the river’s surface. Painted during his explorations of light and repetition, Monet’s poplars stood as both subjects and symbols—capturing nature’s balance between permanence and impermanence, rootedness and motion. The series was not merely a study of trees, but of the way they exist in relation to the air, the water, the shifting light of the seasons. 

This landscape collage expands that sense of connection, transforming the verticality of the poplars into an endless ascent, where the forest stretches beyond the limits of sight, spiraling into infinity. The perspective shifts, no longer grounded but looking upward, as if seeing through time itself. The poplars remain, their Impressionist brushstrokes glowing with warm autumn light, yet they are now embedded within a larger cosmos of trees—reflections upon reflections, growth upon growth, layers of sky and branches merging into a single breathtaking expanse. 

The forest canopy explodes outward, as if caught in a moment of acceleration, as if the act of looking has become movement itself. The sky is no longer just a backdrop but a living entity, swirling with clouds that blur the boundary between the terrestrial and the celestial. Light pierces through the treetops, radiating outward in all directions, illuminating the scene with an ethereal glow. The horizon dissolves, leaving only the sensation of ascent, of expansion, of stepping into a realm where earth and air are no longer separate. 

Color is central to this transformation. Monet’s soft golds and pastel blues remain, but they are now infused with a dynamic spectrum of shifting hues—deep forest greens blending into luminous whites, the warmth of wood merging with the cool vastness of sky. The trees no longer stand alone; they are part of something larger, something infinite. Their reflections in the water below echo into the towering trunks above, suggesting that there is no beginning or end—only continuity, only the breath of the forest stretching across dimensions. 

As an artist, my intention with this piece was to explore the idea of perspective—not just visual perspective, but the way we perceive space, time, and our place within nature. Monet painted poplars in their fleeting beauty, observing how they changed with the seasons, how their forms shifted in reflection. But what if those reflections stretched further? What if looking at a single tree was like looking into infinity? 

The upward movement in this composition suggests more than growth—it is the sensation of being drawn into something larger, of dissolving into the natural world rather than merely observing it. The forest does not just exist around us; it engulfs us, absorbs us, reminds us that we are part of something older, something vast. The trees stand as pillars, not just of the earth, but of memory, of continuity, of the invisible threads that connect sky, water, and time itself. 

This piece is not just about trees, nor just about the sky—it is about the space in between, the connection between what is rooted and what is free, between what stands and what moves. Through this composition, I wanted to evoke the sensation of endlessness, of looking up and seeing not just branches, but the infinite architecture of nature unfolding, leading somewhere beyond sight, beyond time, beyond the self.