A stand of soft, wheat-like grasses gathers in the corner, quietly framing the scene. Beyond them, still water shifts from bright azure to deep blue, as if holding its breath for what unfolds above.

Because here—this is where the sky remembers itself.

A towering column of stratocumulus clouds rises with quiet authority, its edges lit by a hidden sun glowing from deep within. Smaller white clouds drift around it like thoughts breaking free, scattered across a blue sky textured with faint, moving light.

There’s a sense of power in skies like this—a reminder that nature carries on with its own memory and momentum, shaping beauty far beyond our understanding. We’re simply fortunate to witness the moment when the sky pauses, gathers itself, and becomes something unforgettable.