I no longer knew if I was moving forward or merely treading water. Eventually, nothing remained of my existence except for the “vibration” the steady, rhythmic strike of my feet against the earth.

A world seen from the perspective of small creatures, a world that can only be seen when my face becomes parallel to the ground. The tiny white flowers blooming no bigger than a fingernail were brave and magnificent.

“beautiful”. It was a feeling where the heart released a radiant joy of light, but at the same time contained a kind of fragile sorrow. Like fireworks rising and disappearing into the night sky.