Aurora Borealis
We saw the Northern Lights once. Like ancient flames, leaping and twirling in the sky. A celestial fire from a time long forgotten. The colors shifted and swirled; red to gold, blue to violet; painting the heavens with God's celestial beauty.
Aurora Borealis.
It felt like witnessing the rhythm of the universe itself, the seamless turning of time and seasons. Summer yielding to fall, youth fading into age, the present slipping into the past.
As night drew to an end, I sat in the silence, watching as the morning star crested the mountains, heralding a new day. In that quiet moment, I understood: life is a tapestry woven from memories, each like a fragment of starlight. And like starlight, they linger for all time, enduring far beyond the moments they were born.
Aurora Borealis
We saw the Northern Lights once. Like ancient flames, leaping and twirling in the sky. A celestial fire from a time long forgotten. The colors shifted and swirled; red to gold, blue to violet; painting the heavens with God's celestial beauty.
Aurora Borealis.
It felt like witnessing the rhythm of the universe itself, the seamless turning of time and seasons. Summer yielding to fall, youth fading into age, the present slipping into the past.
As night drew to an end, I sat in the silence, watching as the morning star crested the mountains, heralding a new day. In that quiet moment, I understood: life is a tapestry woven from memories, each like a fragment of starlight. And like starlight, they linger for all time, enduring far beyond the moments they were born.