A Shared Dream

• Photographer
  Yixuan Wang

One afternoon, I stood beneath a tree. My gaze crept up the trunk until the canopy gently swallowed me whole. Gold light poured down, as if gravity were inverted. The tree embraced me into its dream. In one moment, I even couldn't distinguish whether the dream was the tree's or mine. Silver grains revived a growing dream, each crystal a tiny vessel carrying the memory of upward-reaching branches.