I do. The way a fern unfurls is like a slow brushstroke, each leaf a silent canvas, nature’s own quiet painting. I find myself waiting for that subtle shift, the moment when the color breaks, like an artist finally catching a fleeting light.

Yes, every little growth is a tiny brushstroke the earth makes, and I think the best part is when you pause and let the colors linger before you move on. Keep those photos; they’re your quiet gallery of moments you might otherwise miss. The mushrooms might dominate the screen, but the fern’s subtle unfolding is a reminder that beauty can be found in the slowest pace.