Debug og_description: Did you know ink wash paintings once used rice paper so delicate it could be read through? Here, crimson leaves bleed into the fog like memories half-remembered, while dark trunks rise like silent sentinels. The mountain looms in hushed indigo, its edges softened by time and mist—your gaze drifts over rooftops where light spills like spilled tea, reflecting in still water that holds no mirror but the sky’s own breath.
Debug product.metafields.custom.desc: Did you know ink wash paintings once used rice paper so delicate it could be read through? Here, crimson leaves bleed into the fog like memories half-remembered, while dark trunks rise like silent sentinels. The mountain looms in hushed indigo, its edges softened by time and mist—your gaze drifts over rooftops where light spills like spilled tea, reflecting in still water that holds no mirror but the sky’s own breath.
Debug page_type: product
Debug page_description: Did you know ink wash paintings once used rice paper so delicate it could be read through? Here, crimson leaves bleed into the fog like memories half-remembered, while dark trunks rise like silent sentinels. The mountain looms in hushed indigo, its edges softened by time and mist—your gaze drifts over rooftops where light spills like spilled tea, reflecting in still water that holds no mirror but the sky’s own breath. Share this with your best friend. Send this to your love and swap a matching set. What if the trees were writing poems only the wind could read?
SKU:After payment, you'll receive a high-resolution file (4344 × 8688, jpeg - 9.38 MB) ready for download. Image in App code: ca9022
Instant digital download · Files saved in My Library for unlimited re-downloads
Description
Share this with your best friend. Send this to your love and swap a matching set.
What if the trees were writing poems only the wind could read? The full resolution of this artwork/wallpaper is 4344 × 8688, with a file size of 9.38 MB MB. Image in App code: ca9022 1:2 Applicable to mobile phones. This product only contains one wallpaper, other wallpapers in the multi-device effect preview need to be purchased separately. Download Information The download link will be on the “Thank You” page once payment is completed. Most wallpaper themes can be instantly downloaded once payment is processed. Few wallpaper backgrounds will generally be processed and sent within 48 hours to your email inbox as our team must confirm that patterns, quality, and links are in proper working order before shipping.
Included Files & Resolutions
File formats: JPG/PNG (static); some themes also include MP4 (Live/animated).
Resolutions: Up to 8K originals; high-resolution files suitable for cropping into multiple device ratios, such as iPhone, iPad, Samsung Ultra, Pixel, Fold, and other models, as well as common desktop formats (4K/5K, 21:9, 32:9).
Color & usage: Standard sRGB; suitable for lock screen, home screen, and desktop.
Compatibility & setup
iPhone: Save image → Photos → Set as Wallpaper (Depth/Parallax options available)
Android (One UI example): Long press home screen → Wallpapers & style → Choose image → Apply to Lock/Home/AOD
Share this with your best friend. Send this to your love and swap a matching set.
What if the trees were writing poems only the wind could read? The full resolution of this artwork/wallpaper is 4344 × 8688, with a file size of 9.38 MB MB. Image in App code: ca9022 1:2 Applicable to mobile phones. This product only contains one wallpaper, other wallpapers in the multi-device effect preview need to be purchased separately. Download Information The download link will be on the “Thank You” page once payment is completed. Most wallpaper themes can be instantly downloaded once payment is processed. Few wallpaper backgrounds will generally be processed and sent within 48 hours to your email inbox as our team must confirm that patterns, quality, and links are in proper working order before shipping.
4344 × 8688
1:2
Did you know ink wash paintings once used rice paper so delicate it could be read through? Here, crimson leaves bleed into the fog like memories half-remembered, while dark trunks rise like silent sentinels. The mountain looms in hushed indigo, its edges softened by time and mist—your gaze drifts over rooftops where light spills like spilled tea, reflecting in still water that holds no mirror but the sky’s own breath.