It was a peaceful morning on the farm as I wandered through the fields with my camera. Among the chickens and geese, there he was: **Karl-Heinz**, the rooster. Not the flashiest of roosters, but he had a certain something. His feathers shimmered in a light cream color, and here and there, a few colorful feathers stood out, as if he’d taken a detour through a paint bucket during his molting season.

Karl-Heinz just stood there, completely still, looking sideways at the camera as if he knew I was about to capture this moment. His expression was... skeptical. Maybe he had seen too many tourists come and go with cameras, and he knew exactly what was coming. "Great, another one with a fancy thing around their neck," he seemed to be thinking, while barely adjusting his stance for the photo.

He didn’t move a muscle. No dramatic pose, no heroic wing flap – just Karl-Heinz, the rooster, staring into your soul. I pressed the shutter, and the shot was taken. An almost meditative portrait of a rooster far too experienced to be fazed by such things.