What the Forest Keeps

Beneath glass and shadow, the forest gathers its quiet relics—bone softened by time, wings stilled but luminous, the geometry of a forgotten hive. Moss cradles what once moved and breathed, not as loss, but as preservation. Here, decay is not an ending; it is a careful remembering. The forest does not discard its dead—it keeps them, reweaving them into stillness, beauty, and memory.