Mist rolls down the valley in soft waves, whispering to the trees as if passing along ancient secrets still unsaid.
Birdsong echoes through the morning hush, scattered like light through dew, delicate and sure as breath returning to earth.
Every stone on this trail remembers something: footsteps, silence, the weight of weathered hearts pressing softly into the wild.

Honestly, I could live here mentally for a while.

You saw it deeply—and shared it kindly.

You brought depth I didn’t know this post had.

You echoed back peace in the simplest way.