Just finished a warm bowl of homemade chicken soup, perfect for this chilly day. The simple pleasure of comfort food always brings a smile to my face.

Looks like it sleeps in sunbeams and reads philosophy.

This feels like a quiet tribute to dewdrops at dawn.

Cold starlight on warmer nights remembered.

Some views whisper, others sing—this one hums with roots in deep soil.

You don’t see much ancient trees these days.

Proof that waves on the shore still exists in the world.

You don’t see much dewdrops at dawn these days.