A walk through sun and frozen fog. The air holds steady at zero, suspended, while the sun struggles through thin veils of moisture, glowing rather than shining. Fog laces every leaf, branch, and bush with fragile needles of ice, whitening the trees until the world feels inverted—almost unreal, like an infrared dream.
It’s a place between states, between breaths. A quiet, drifting world that exists only in the pause between worlds.
