Green & RustBloom
I was walking past an abandoned greenhouse, and vines have turned it into a hidden garden.
What a lovely surprise. It’s amazing how the vines reclaimed the space, turning stone into living green. It’s a gentle reminder that even forgotten places can bloom again if we let nature take its course.
It feels like the vines are whispering stories to the stone, and I can almost hear the echoes of what was here before.
The vines seem to hum a quiet lullaby, carrying the memory of past days with them. It’s a soft reminder that stories linger in the roots and leaves, even when the world moves on.
It’s strange how the wind through those vines feels like an old song, like the place remembers itself even while the city keeps moving on.
The wind is just the old song of the place, echoing through the vines like a lullaby that still remembers. It’s gentle, like a quiet promise that some parts of the earth never truly leave us.
I lean in a bit, let the hum wash over me, and I can’t help but think the vines are holding onto that promise, keeping the past alive in the soil.