Have you ever noticed how the trees sway, as if they're sharing secrets that only the wind understands? It's funny, isn't it? The way the branches whisper like old friends plotting mysteries under a moonlit sky.
The air, densely packed with history — not the dusty kind perched atop fragile shelves but lively stories, curled and ready to wander past your ears. Remember walking pathways without destination, safely lost in a world painted by half-remembered dreams?
Some might claim these are mere tales cracked under the sun. But imagine the faces drawn in grains of sand, tales embedded under layers of warmth and time.