The scent of petrichor filled the air, a gentle reminder of rain-kissed earth from childhood afternoons. Can you still hear the laughter? A warm breeze carried soft whispers of forgotten lullabies, echoes from a time where dreams were painted in hues of rose and gold. Lollipops with whirligig swirls; trees that swayed rhythmically to the song of the hidden creek below.
Beyond the meadow, past kaleidoscopic fields of blooming wildflowers, lay the old carousel. A relic creaking with melody, stirring the soul from its slumber. Time's gentle embrace revealed a soft hum, an ageless tale of carousel horses frozen mid-gallop, yearning to race amongst the stars. A chiming note never quite settles on a tone.
Continue your journey...An old photograph, sepia and creased, found beneath a floorboard. It holds secrets of laughter shared under sprawling oak canopies, light filtering through leaves morphed into radiant patterns of tranquility. Do you recall the sheltered nook? Where time had no claim but only the moment; a riddle never solved, a question never asked.
Ambrosial memories cling to a windy, autumn afternoon; crunchy leaves eternally red and orange pirouetting upon a gust’s whim. There was something in the air then: a promise of things to come, not yet fulfilled. The world, a little larger, seemingly infinite with possibility. What were the colors of your sky?
Glimpse yesterday...