On a foggy morning by the lake, the world feels soft and still, as if suspended in time. A thick mist hugs the water’s surface, blurring the line between sky and earth. The faint outlines of trees and distant hills emerge through the haze, their shapes muted and ethereal. The air is cool and damp, carrying the scent of wet earth and pine. Gentle ripples disturb the otherwise glassy surface of the lake, their movement barely noticeable in the quiet morning. It's a peaceful, almost otherworldly scene, where everything seems to be cloaked in mystery.
