A sheltered bay, ancient dark rocks, and the distant watch of the lighthouse.
Up on the rugged shore, where the tide whispers secrets to the stone,
there is a mystical path along the coastline —
a spot where an old myth awakens,
where the soul can listen to the sea's deep song
before the waves roll out again.
A small village, a rising path, and the long breath of the sea.
Up on Robert’s Head, where the wind meets the sea,
there is a quiet place on the hillside —
a spot where something waits,
where the heart can rest for a moment
before the light moves on.
A quiet forest path where dusk gathers softly on old wood —
a place where something waits in the fading light,
where silence remembers more than it says,
and the heart finds a moment of rest beneath the trees.
A sunlit forest of falling water and quiet stories —
where a wanderer moves through moss and gentle paths,
toward a place deep in the woods
where something ancient waits in the hush between the trees and the waterfall’s sigh.