Thanks to light, we are able to see things that usually remain in silence. We can even see ourselves when, on a walk, we come across the reflection of who we are and what we have been through. These things are not easy to see, it takes effort to connect from within with figures and places that inhabit the outside. Light has enabled me to discover my own reflection too, a coincidence that occurred in the exact and most needed moment. A dark figure appeared lightened by the bright light which caresses the islands: the palm tree. When we think about a palm tree, we imagine a full-fledged living being, imposing and plethoric, a forced identity that not all of them can sustain. Just like beautiful ruins with murky pasts, new forms are unveiled by a light that connects the good and the evil. These palm trees are the embodiment of loneliness, hitting rock-bottom, while light reveals its very existence; it gives them the opportunity of being found by someone. It seems that these two symptoms are intertwined, creating a single new one. A two-fold way to rebirth, both for the palm trees and the photographer. 'Endemic' reflects on the bond that is created between light-form and the mourning state of palm trees, hidden in the periphery of light-view. An inside place where one does not fancy to immerse. A conversation between you and what surrounds you, a kind of reflection-salvation where the photographer saves the palm tree and the latter saves the photographer too. A mutual clap in the back that resonates in my head, which turns into a sentence of a band called Betunizer, telling you: 'Time does not spare you, you shall be reborn'.