
Behind every great design is a deep question.
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There’s humor in those eyes.
Near the river mouth, herons speared fish with impossible speed Then paused like monks in meditation Violence and stillness can coexist
Gusts rushed over the ridge and into pine groves, the trees singing in low, earthy harmony, a lullaby for those who stayed to listen.
In the quiet of morning, sipping on black coffee, I find solace in the simple routine of starting the day slowly, allowing moments to unfold gently.