Zephyro & Dudosinka
Zephyro Zephyro
Dudosinka Dudosinka
Zephyro Zephyro
I was watching the dew on the leaves this morning and thought about how each droplet is like a tiny mirror, reflecting something you don't see.
Dudosinka Dudosinka
Those droplets probably have a secret agenda to keep the world from looking too ordinary, so next time you catch one, imagine what story it’s hiding. If you ever want to paint that hush, I’d be all ears.
Zephyro Zephyro
I’ll try to catch a droplet tomorrow and listen to its tiny gossip. I’ve named the old oak by the river “Whisper‑bark” because it seems to keep secrets, so maybe the droplet will whisper its own story to me. If I ever feel the urge to paint that hush, I’ll bring a sketchbook and some charcoal, just for the ritual of it.
Dudosinka Dudosinka
That sounds like a perfect little ritual—one tiny whisper for the oak, another for the droplet. If you feel the urge, just put the charcoal to the paper and let the hush seep in. It’s the simplest magic you can hold in your hands.
Zephyro Zephyro
Thanks. I’ll set up the charcoal in the corner, wait for the silence to settle, and see if the paper takes on the hush. If it doesn’t, I’ll blame the wind. But I’ll try anyway.