Imagine a beautiful dawn. The first rays of the sun were just teasing the sky with his gentle warmth, a subtle foreplay. The sky, in turn, blushes a gorgeous shade of pink, orange, and crimson. And just like the lace veil of gossamer silk that covers a bride’s face, a gentle layer of fog, covers the lush green tapestry made by the leaves, each of them sweating their night’s hard work as dewdrops. But all of these looks blurred, compared to the lone woman that stand amidst them. She is draped artfully in a saree of an earthy tone, the brown of it merging to the soil below as though the woman had sprouted from beneath, her lush black hair gently cascading down her shoulders in soft swirls. An orange Daffodil rests near the back of her ear, and she is lost in the serene beauty that surrounds her, her sculpted face painted with a smile of complete content, her eyes closed as she memorizes the beauty of it all. It becomes a moment frozen in time, etched in memory for all eternity.