In that season, the sunlight pierced through the veins of large leaves, casting soft, ethereal hues on the walls. With the arrival of the spring evening breeze, the first scent of the year filled the air, drawing your gaze back. There it is—those beautiful fragments that echo in our memories, existing in solitude, warm, passionate, ever-churning.

In the days to come, raise your eyes, and gaze upward. In your eyes, the clouds and rain of July swirl, extending endlessly to the edge of the sky.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　  — Echoes in the Wind