Clouds parted like theater curtains, spilling a sun rehearsed in gold. Light swaggered across the hills, unapologetic in its excess. Watching, I wondered: what if joy looked like this—loud, lavish, refusing to whisper its arrival? Maybe happiness isn’t humble; maybe it burns like noon in a world addicted to dusk.

I could stare at this forever Is this what peace looks like?

Dedicated to transforming challenges into opportunities through creative thinking and teamwork.

Every glance at this feels healing already