Quiet moments. A shred of a dream, those fragile visions.
Subconscious reconstructions of the fabrics of time.
Maybe so, maybe so...
Perhaps the serenity of the moment will convey a premonition.
Echoes of a distant past faded away in the cold and unrelenting winds.
The present and foreboding moment made me recall the old ledgers of memory and the words of John Bunyan:
"Farewell, I wish our souls may meet with comfort at the journey's end."