Mist curls through the trees, softening edges into whispers of green and gray. The world dissolves into layers of quiet—a hush where light barely breaks through. No horizon, only the slow fade of branches into fog. France breathes here, unseen but thick in the air.
Dappled light filters through the trees lining the gravel path, casting shifting patterns on the ground. The alley stretches toward the distant château, its symmetry softened by loose brushstrokes that blur the boundary between garden and sky. A quiet moment in Versailles, where sunlight and shadow dance across the grand promenade.