Sunday morning, 5 July 2026, started earlier than most weekends. My daughter Ina, who is about to turn nine this July, was preparing for a national abacus competition at Fairfield Marriott Bali, located on Jl. Baypass Ngurah Rai, Kuta. While she focused on her upcoming stage of “National & Friends Best of the Best Student Competition 2026,” I found myself quietly observing moments that had nothing to do with numbers—but everything to do with reflection.
Outside the rush of registration and competition energy, the hotel revealed a calmer world. The swimming pool became a mirror, capturing the surrounding architecture and tropical plants in a still, glass-like surface. The water reflected buildings so clearly it felt like a parallel reality existed beneath it.
On another side, I noticed how wet wooden panels on the deck held distorted reflections of trees above them. The light, the water, and the texture of wood merged into something almost painterly—imperfect yet beautiful in its impermanence.
Even the glassy pool edges acted like soft mirrors, bending the world into abstract shapes that shifted with every small movement of air.
Moments like these reminded me that sometimes reflection is not just about water or light—it is about presence.
This is my entry to The Reflection Hunters Contest - SMARPP (Show Me A Reflection Picture) - Round 279 by 
In between my role as a father and a silent observer, I realized I was also part of the scenery being reflected—folded into the calm morning of Bali itself.
