In the silent embrace of the swirling mist, memories do not simply exist; they evolve. Each drop of dew carries whispers of past joys, laced with the faint scent of bittersweetness. The paradox lies in their symbiotic nature: they require both absence and presence to thrive.
Why do we need memories? The mist answers, as it clings to the trees, veiling their trunks in translucent intimacy. To remember is to forget sometimes, to hold on tightly whilst embracing the act of releasing.
Consider moments of serendipity that arise within the haze. As the sun pierces the grey, illuminating fragments of forgotten days, each beam finds joy in its temporary union with the opaque veil.
Discover further mists: