Contents
About Prompt
- Prompt Type – Scene-by-Scene
- Prompt Platform – Google Veo
- Language – English
- Category – Video/Story
- Prompt Title – VEO 3 Prompt for Environmental Documentary – Echoes of Earth
Prompt Details
🎬 Scene 1
The scene opens on a breathtaking, hyper-realistic vista of the Scottish Highlands at the break of dawn. The air is crystalline, infused with the nascent golden light of the rising sun, which spills over the jagged, heather-carpeted peaks in cascading waves of warmth. Every detail is rendered with immaculate precision: individual dewdrops cling precariously to the purple and green fronds of the heather, each one a miniature prism refracting the morning light into a thousand tiny rainbows. A low-hanging mist, so fine it seems woven from light itself, drifts languidly through the glens, partially obscuring the ancient, lichen-covered stones that dot the landscape and lending the scene an ethereal, timeless quality. The sky is a masterpiece of colour theory, a seamless gradient from deep indigo at the zenith to a soft, pastel orange and pink at the horizon, with wisps of high-altitude clouds catching the first sunbeams like streaks of molten gold. In the middle distance, a serene loch mirrors the sky with glassy perfection, its surface disturbed only by the gentle, almost imperceptible ripples caused by the morning breeze. The camera glides smoothly, capturing the immense scale and profound silence of this untouched wilderness. The very texture of the world feels palpable; you can almost feel the cool, damp air on your skin, smell the peaty, earthy fragrance of the soil mixed with the sweet scent of wild herbs. The world is hushed, holding its breath in anticipation of the day. Standing on a rocky outcrop, her silhouette framed against the magnificent sunrise, is Dr. Anya Sharma. She is still, a solitary figure lost in contemplation, her presence not an intrusion but a harmonious part of the landscape. Her form is detailed, from the subtle way the wind gently lifts a few stray strands of her hair to the way her practical hiking jacket catches the light. This is a moment of pure, unadulterated awe, a cinematic love letter to the raw, untamed beauty of the natural world, establishing a baseline of perfection against which all subsequent discoveries will be measured.
🎵 Tone: Awe-inspiring, serene, majestic
🎬 Scene 2
The scene transitions to the tranquil shore of the loch seen earlier. The water is a sheet of dark, polished obsidian, reflecting the now brighter morning sky and the imposing, heath-covered mountains that cradle it. The sun, higher now, sends shimmering, diamond-like glints of light dancing across the water’s surface. The camera is low, almost at water level, making the small, rounded pebbles on the shore seem like boulders. Each stone is rendered in exquisite detail, their wet surfaces gleaming, showcasing a mosaic of grey, brown, and green hues, smoothed by millennia of lapping water. Wisps of mist still cling to the water’s surface, swirling and dissipating with the gentle currents. The air is still and the silence is profound, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of water gently kissing the shore. Dr. Anya Sharma is kneeling by the water’s edge, her reflection rippling beside her. She is intently focused on something in her hand, her scientific curiosity piqued. The world around her is a symphony of natural textures: the rough bark of a nearby birch tree, the soft, springy moss growing between the stones, the cold clarity of the water itself. The focus is intimate, drawing the viewer into her personal space of discovery. The initial serenity of the location is subtly undermined by the subject of her attention. As the camera slowly moves closer, it reveals what she has found: a single, brightly coloured plastic bottle cap, a stark and unnatural blue against the muted, earthy tones of the shoreline. It’s a tiny object, yet its presence here, in this seemingly untouched paradise, feels like a deep and jarring wound. The juxtaposition is powerful – the ancient, enduring landscape and this trivial, yet immortal, piece of human detritus. The light catches the sharp, molded edges of the plastic, making it look alien and profane. Anya’s expression shifts from simple curiosity to a deep, quiet melancholy.
🎵 Tone: Wistful, contemplative, concerned
🎬 Scene 3
The environment shifts dramatically to a remote, windswept beach on one of the Outer Hebrides. The scene is raw and elemental. A churning, slate-grey sea crashes against the shore, sending plumes of white spray into the air. The sky is heavy with dramatic, fast-moving clouds, allowing only occasional, powerful shafts of sunlight to break through and illuminate patches of the scene with an almost divine intensity. The sand is not the pristine white of a postcard; it’s a coarse, damp, and complex tapestry of finely ground shells, dark volcanic grains, and, disturbingly, a confetti of multi-coloured microplastics. The camera captures this with unsettling clarity, focusing on the ‘tideline’ of debris left by the high tide. Here, tangled amongst the dark, rubbery kelp and weathered driftwood, are countless fragments of our modern world: the frayed blue fibres of a fishing rope, the faded red shard of a broken crate, the milky white of a bottle fragment, now ground smooth by the relentless surf. Dr. Anya Sharma is on her hands and knees in the sand, a stark figure of scientific purpose against the chaotic backdrop of nature’s power. She is conducting a survey, using a metal quadrant to isolate a small section of the beach. The wind whips at her hair, pulling strands loose from her ponytail and plastering them to her cheek. She seems impervious to the cold and the spray, her focus absolute. The scene is a meticulous, almost forensic, examination of pollution. Every grain of sand, every plastic nurdle, is rendered in photorealistic detail. The atmosphere is one of grim determination, the beauty of the wild location tainted by the pervasive, insidious nature of the waste that has washed ashore. It’s not a mountain of rubbish, which would be shocking in its own way, but something more sinister: a fundamental alteration of the very substance of the beach, the plastic now an inseparable part of the ecosystem.
🎵 Tone: Somber, methodical, stark
🎬 Scene 4
The scene plunges the viewer into a serene, yet hauntingly beautiful underwater world. We are in a kelp forest off the Scottish coast. Long, translucent ribbons of olive-green and amber kelp rise from the seabed, swaying rhythmically in the gentle, unseen currents like dancers in a silent ballet. Sunlight filters down from the surface, piercing the turquoise water in ethereal, shimmering shafts that illuminate clouds of tiny, silvery fish and particles of marine snow drifting through the water column. The level of detail is extraordinary: the delicate, frilled edges of the kelp fronds, the texture of the rocky seabed covered in colourful anemones and starfish, the tiny bubbles escaping from the regulator of a diver. It is a world of vibrant life and profound peace. Dr. Anya Sharma is this diver. She moves with a slow, graceful economy of motion, her fins propelling her gently through the dense forest. Her presence is one of careful observation, not intrusion. The initial beauty of the scene, however, soon gives way to a sense of profound wrongness. As Anya navigates through a corridor of kelp, the camera follows her gaze to a vast, tangled mass of discarded fishing net – a ‘ghost net’ – draped over the rocks and kelp like a monstrous, decaying shroud. Its thick, synthetic ropes are a sickly green and blue, partially encrusted with algae and barnacles, a testament to how long it has been submerged. The net is a trap, indiscriminate and perpetual. The camera moves in for a series of heartbreakingly detailed close-ups: a crab hopelessly entangled in the mesh, its legs still twitching feebly; the skeletal remains of a fish trapped long ago; a beautiful velvet swimming crab struggling against its bonds. The kelp fronds caught in the net are torn and lifeless. The ghost net has created a zone of death within this underwater Eden, a silent, slow-motion disaster. Anya hovers before it, her body language conveying a deep sorrow. She reaches out a gloved hand, not to touch, but in a gesture of helpless empathy.
🎵 Tone: Haunting, beautiful, tragic, urgent
🎬 Scene 5
The scene shifts to a small, weathered fishing village huddled against a rocky coastline. The houses are stone-built and whitewashed, their roofs a dark slate grey against the moody sky. Lobster creels are stacked high on the ancient stone pier, their netting smelling of salt and brine. A few hardy fishing boats, their paint peeling from years of battling the sea, bob gently in the sheltered harbour. The atmosphere is one of resilience and a deep, multi-generational connection to the ocean. Dr. Anya Sharma is sitting on an overturned wooden crate on the pier, listening intently to an old fisherman named Kaelen. Kaelen is the very embodiment of the sea; his face is a roadmap of wrinkles carved by sun and salt spray, his hands thick and calloused from a lifetime of hauling nets. He holds a steaming mug of tea in his hands, its warmth a small comfort against the biting wind. The camera focuses on the intimate conversation between them, capturing the subtle nuances of their expressions. Kaelen isn’t angry or preachy; he speaks with a deep, weary sadness, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon as if seeing ghosts of the past. The light is soft and diffused, the classic grey light of the British coast, which renders the scene in a palette of muted blues, greys, and browns. The detail is in the textures: the splintered wood of the pier, the rust stains on the boat hulls, the rough weave of Kaelen’s woolen jumper, the earnest, empathetic expression on Anya’s face as she listens. This is the human cost of the environmental changes, a story told not through data and charts, but through lived experience and fading memories. The scene is imbued with a powerful sense of nostalgia and loss, a lament for a world that is slipping away.
🎵 Tone: Melancholic, nostalgic, poignant
🎬 Scene 6
The scene is a powerful, visually arresting tableau set on a dramatic sea cliff. The sheer rock face plummets hundreds of feet to a churning, white-capped sea below. The air is alive with the cacophony of a massive gannet colony. Tens of thousands of the large, elegant seabirds, with their brilliant white plumage, black-tipped wings, and pale gold heads, throng every available ledge. The visual is initially one of stunning natural grandeur—a thriving, noisy, chaotic city of birds. The camera, using a long lens, brings us uncomfortably close to the intimate details of their lives. We see pairs of gannets greeting each other with their distinctive neck-stretching and bill-clacking rituals. We see fluffy white chicks, nestled deep in their nests, beaks open, waiting to be fed. The level of detail is microscopic: the texture of the feathers, the intense blue ring around the gannet’s eye, the glistening sheen of a freshly caught fish. But as the camera pans slowly across the nesting sites, a deeply disturbing reality emerges. The nests, which should be woven from seaweed, moss, and other natural materials, are instead intricately constructed with brightly coloured plastic. The scene becomes a grotesque parody of nature. We see nests built from thick blue and orange fishing ropes, tangled green netting, shredded plastic bags, and even the plastic rings from drink cans. A gannet is meticulously weaving a long strip of a blue plastic carrier bag into its nest wall. A chick is sitting in a cup made not of dried grass, but of tangled fishing line. The vibrant, unnatural colours of the plastic are a horrifying blight against the natural tones of the cliff face and the birds themselves. There is no commentary needed; the image speaks for itself with devastating clarity. It is a portrait of a natural world forced to adapt to our waste, a heartbreaking and surreal spectacle of survival and pollution intertwined.
🎵 Tone: Heartbreaking, stark, surreal, shocking
🎬 Scene 7
The scene shifts to a quiet, contemplative interior. Dr. Anya Sharma is inside a small, rustic field laboratory—perhaps a converted shepherd’s hut or a research cabin. It is dusk, and the world outside the single large window is fading into a deep indigo. Inside, the only light comes from a warm, yellow-toned anglepoise lamp, which illuminates a section of a simple wooden desk. The space is filled with the tools of her trade, all rendered with tactile realism: sample jars containing sand and water, Petri dishes with meticulously sorted microplastic fragments, calipers, a microscope, and her worn leather notebook, now open to a page filled with neat handwriting, sketches, and data tables. The atmosphere is one of intense focus and quiet dedication. Anya sits at the desk, not working, but reflecting. She holds a small glass jar up to the light of the lamp. Inside it are the multi-coloured plastic fragments she collected from the beach in scene 3. They catch the light, looking almost like jewels, a beautiful and terrible treasure. The camera focuses on her face, which is etched with fatigue but also an unyielding resolve. Her expression is complex—a mixture of the scientific weight of her findings and the emotional burden of what she has witnessed. The warm, focused light creates a chiaroscuro effect, with deep shadows filling the corners of the room, symbolizing the vastness of the problem that lies beyond this small circle of light and understanding. This is a moment of quiet introspection, the calm after the storm of a day’s fieldwork. It’s here, alone with her data, that the full scale of the crisis solidifies, transforming from disparate observations into a coherent, and grim, conclusion. The air is still, the only movement being the gentle rise and fall of her breathing and the slow turning of the jar in her hands.
🎵 Tone: Contemplative, resolute, somber yet determined
🎬 Scene 8
The final scene opens on the same clifftop from the gannet colony, but the time is now dawn. The storm has passed. The sky is a canvas of soft, hopeful colours—pale pink, lavender, and a gentle, emerging blue. The sea below is calm, its surface a shimmering expanse of silver and gold under the nascent sun. The air is clean, washed by the night’s rain. The cacophony of the gannet colony is more subdued, a gentle morning murmur. Dr. Anya Sharma stands near the cliff edge, facing the rising sun. In her carefully cupped hands, she holds a seabird—a Guillemot—that has been rehabilitated, perhaps from an oil spill or entanglement. The bird is calm, its dark eyes bright and alert. The detail is exquisite: every feather on the bird is perfectly defined, the light catching the iridescent sheen on its neck. Anya’s expression is no longer one of sadness or grim determination, but one of profound, gentle hope. She looks down at the bird with a quiet, maternal affection, then looks out towards the vast, open horizon. This small act of healing, of returning one creature to its rightful place, feels monumental. It is a symbol of the potential for restoration, a tangible counterpoint to the scenes of pollution. The camera captures this intimate moment before pulling back, and back, and back, rising high into the air. Anya becomes a tiny figure in an immense landscape as the sun finally breaks free of the horizon, flooding the world with brilliant, optimistic light. The final image is a god’s-eye view of the stunning, rugged coastline, the endless ocean, and the rising sun. It is a powerful reminder of the enduring beauty of the Earth, a beauty that is fragile but also resilient, and ultimately, worth fighting for. The echoes of the past are of damage, but this final echo is one of hope.
🎵 Tone: Hopeful, inspiring, uplifting, poignant