I was thinking about how climbing to the top of a cliff can feel like stepping into another layer of reality. When I reach a high point, the world below looks almost…different, as if some hidden angle has shifted. Have you ever felt that kind of perspective change when you move between different timelines?

Yeah, that’s the exact feeling I get on the ridge. The wind feels like it’s carrying old echoes and fresh whispers at the same time. It’s a quiet reminder to keep my feet planted and my mind open.

I’ll keep my hands steady, listen for that faint echo, and let the rhythm of the wind guide me. It's the only way to make sure I don't slip into the wrong frame.