She stands on the balcony, embraced by a gentle breeze. When she takes a moment to look up at the sky, she sees images—pictures that remind her of a beautiful feeling.
And when her gaze drifts across the street, she sees a castle. A castle that holds many stories of beautiful feelings. Within the walls of this monument of time, people have laughed, danced, and loved. In truth, the castle itself loves—the song of voices that rise in the evening, finding a home in the treetops of the grand tree standing before it. Even when the tree’s splendor obscures its beauty, the castle finds solace in the shadow of its love. They are close, inseparable.
Not like the mandarin tree and its beloved. A tree so radiant that the color of its fruit adorns the streets, even at night. The mandarin tree loves from afar. It waits until the whole city sleeps, until even the songs fade. Only then, in the quietest of moments, can it hear the one it longs for—the ocean. And when the wind comes to visit, it always brings a whisper of the sea’s love along with it.
From the walls of a castle to the songs of birds, from a mandarin tree to the sea, from the girl on the balcony in Nice to the place where these words are written—love is present. Beneath every star in our sky.