In the rustling leaves, a forgotten mystery unfolds.
Amidst the gentle sway of the ancient trees, one can ponder the eternal question:
"Do the forests dream, as we do, of themselves?"
There is a song in the silence of the night—a lullaby sung by stars that have lived millennia and are yet to be heard by the newborns of Earth.
The winds carry whispers of old truths, truths carried by time's relentless march. The river speaks, not to the sea, but to the mountains that cradle its course.
And in this dialogue, humanity finds reflection—mirrors of life carved by water and thought alike.