Daniel Peter

Symphonies of Light"

Beneath the cedar's sheltering branches, I observe as rain descends upon the field in somber, horizontal sheets. In the hedgerows, hawthorn berries exhibit a deepening shade of red, while the oaks timidly shed their initial brown and crimson leaves. Attempting to decipher the madness of this fractured world seems futile; some days, all I perceive is the impending arrival of a protracted winter, with no memory of spring. Yet, in these disheartening times marked by shattered dreams, broken hearts, and fraying social contracts, could something nameless and new be slowly seeping through the crevices?