A spring morning dawns in a solitary homestead. Bare feet touch the dewy grass as I wander toward the stream, where a cool breath drifts through the air, carrying the scent of wild herbs.
It is the energy of spring itself — born from the surge of chlorophyll, when the eyes drink greedily from the vivid green of unfolding leaves, as if absorbing a sign of rebirth and hope, while the nose inhales the boundless aroma of living greens.
