Beneath our feet lies a tapestry of storied silence. Every grain a witness, every layer a forgotten chronicle. Roots whisper secrets in the dark. The soil remembers us better than we remember it.
In the flickering light, it’s easy to miss the stories, buried under layers, forgotten in time. But the earth breathes, uneven and real. Sometimes, it asks, "What have you planted?"
A farmer's hand, calloused and wise, travels the same route, tracing pathways carved through soil's embrace. Each step a pact, a promise renewed with every season.
Crossroads of the Underground Mystories Beneath