The clouds whispered in soft forms, they told me the secrets of rivers and leaves. The pines grew tall, bent atop, the weight of cold air extracted their green. The lake mirrored houses and mountains, glistening respite, for a weary mind. The peaks, snow-covered, scarfed in clouds, proud to be singular in their jagged magnificence. A lowly buzz of an unknown species moving around, I hear it flitter between dust and darkness. A slow life is trapped, fossilized in time, what minuscule existence...