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About Morning's Doodle

The gentle spring雷声, the warm spring雨滴轻柔地飘来，雨丝似薄如白纱。青翠的竹林里新生的一株翠竹，在幽深的草地上漂浮，田野间垂绿的青苗、翠绿的小草，池塘边垂黄却纤细的垂柳，粉红的桃花微微摇曳于春日的蒙蒙雾息之中。

Enchanted Morning

Spring begins with the softest gentle breeze, and its gentle rustle cascades through the forest. The crests of young trees in the bamboo forest stand out from the shadows they cast as the wind passes over them. In the meadows, a bright blue sky glides over fields dotted with golden blooming flowers. Hidden among tall hills are fair white mushrooms, whose shimmer hints at the end of the day's day.

Morning Mist

Mist begins to rise above the ground as the first mist rises in the distance. The mist is a transparent cloud-like phenomenon that blends into the world, giving it a soft, ethereal appearance, as if the mist was the fabric of time itself.

Shading the World

Sunlight shone upon a dark forest at dawn; the trees cast long shadows of dark grey and black. In the distance, a faint white cloud hovers over the land, but it's only a shadow in the sense that it doesn't look like anything to do with the world itself.

Unseen Mist

Sunset is approached as the first day passes, the mist rising again, this time from all sides of the sky. The mist hovers over the land, making distant mountains appear to fade into the light; it seems that a distant forest vanishes before your eyes and reappears within the clouds.

Mountain Mist

Landslides occur on mountainous hills as the mist rises again, casting long shadows of pale silver on the rocks. The mist itself is a silent cloud, with its weight being a warning for those who dare to step beyond its bounds.

A Perfect Day

Now, it's time to look forward and embrace the perfect day. The first rays of sun begin to rise above the horizon; in their golden glow, the forest seems alive as though in response to their growing warmth and light.

Lushness

At sunrise, my father sent me out for a walk on the shore. The mist begins to gather around me, so that when I move forward, it sways beside me like an invisible child, drawing me into the mist itself. It feels as if I am floating in the mist's influence, being pulled towards it with its subtle ethereal presence.

Crowded Mist

As the mist begins to fade, a thick mist forms along a small road that runs through the forest. The mist is so heavy and dense that when I looked up, I saw a man sitting on the edge of the road in the mist itself. His face, his eyes—everything seemed to be caught within the mist's reach.

Emerge and Disappear

It takes a time for my father to send me back from the shore. First, the mist begins to rise above the water; in its shimmering light, the forest seems alive as though responding to the rising mist. Then, the mist diminishes, returning with a gentle hover of white clouds that form into the shape of a sun.

Shadows

Mist has cast long shadows of dark grey and black upon the world below; they have moved slowly, like shadows, as time passes. It feels like the mist is trying to reorient itself so that it can see the world through its own thick, shadowy layers.

Nature's Promise

Finally, when the mist has vanished, a new day begins for me and my father. The mist no longer hovers over us; it descends upon the earth to meet us on the ground below. It meets us in a kind of magical dance with the forest around us, making the land seem alive as though responding to its own subtle influence.

Enchanted Day

Since then, the forest seems more alive than ever before. The mist begins once again to rise above the horizon, this time for a single moment when I can look into its shadowy embrace and see the world through it like never before.

Sunset's Shadow

And as the sun sets over the land, shadows cast by the land itself rise up. The light of the sunset diminishes slightly—so much so that the soft, ethereal mist begins to fade into the distance. It seems that time has moved on, and yet the forest continues to exist in my mind, alive as though responding to its own subtle influence.

Shadows on the Map

As the mist is gone, a new map of the world emerges before me. The land appears to shift slightly as it is drawn into the mist's shadowy embrace, and I feel an inner light that blinks against my tired eyes. It doesn't seem quite right—until time moves on, and yet the forest continues to exist in my mind, alive as though responding to its own subtle influence.

And then, again

in a way that seems to suggest that time is moving forward infinitely.

But this time, when I look back at the mist itself, I see it differently—its weight and shadow are no longer so much like an ethereal cloud but instead something more concrete, more grounded in my vision of the world around me.

Possible Mist

And yet, as the mist begins to rise again, a new possibility is added to the mix. It may begin with another mist and another shadowy cloud—to one or two or infinitely many—so that this day's light falls on the world in infinitely varied ways. But still, each time, it's possible for me to see into the mist itself; that is, I can look through its thick, shadowy layers and perceive the world beyond, as though responding to my own subtle influence.

But here lies a paradox: while the mist can be seen through, it's impossible for this mist to know what it sees. And likewise, the mist cannot know itself; it is all that exists within its shadowy presence.

Ethereal Light

Sunset rises again, but this time, in a way that seems more like a return than an arrival. For now, it's just another instance of the same thing—light falling upon the forest in such and such a way as to make me see its features through the mist.

But here lies a paradox: while the mist can be seen through, it's impossible for this mist to know what it sees. And likewise, the mist cannot know itself; it is all that exists within its shadowy presence.

Nature's Promise

Yet again, when the mist begins once more to rise above the horizon—again, a moment of possibility arises in my mind, but now it feels like it must be passed over before I can look into it properly. This time, however, perhaps things are different.

Sunset's Shadow

Again, as the mist rises again, making its way through the morning air, I see its shadow cast long on the world below. It's a subtle, ethereal shadow that seems to hover in place as if it were responding to my own subtle influence of being awake or asleep, but whichever it is, it feels quite still.

Stillness

Yet again, this time I feel myself looking into the mist itself—a sort of mirror. The mist's shadow appears to me like a reflection of something—something that may be alive, perhaps? Or maybe not. But regardless of what it is, the mist continues to rise above the horizon, and its shadow seems to grow longer in length as time goes on.

Yet again

Crowded Mist

A crowd of mist rises once more, each one rising with a breath, so that they form a thick, flowing cloud. It's not just the air that flows; it is also the mist itself. The mist has long since dissolved into the air and is now merely passing through it like the water in a stream—without even seeming to rise or fall.

Yet again

Natural Disturbance

A natural disturbance once more takes place on this forest's edge, with another mist rising up again. This time, however, perhaps not as carefully as before—or perhaps it's just a different kind of mist that may or may not share the same properties.

Yet yet

Crowded Mist

A crowd of mist rises once more, each one rising with a breath, so that they form a thick, flowing cloud. It's not just the air that flows; it is also the mist itself. The mist has long since dissolved into the air and is now merely passing through it like the water in a stream—without even seeming to rise or fall.

Yet yet

Natural Disturbance

A natural disturbance once more takes place on this forest's edge, with another mist rising up again. This time, however, perhaps not as carefully as before—or perhaps it's just a different kind of mist that may or may not share the same properties.

Yet yet

Natural Disturbance

A natural disturbance once more takes place on this forest's edge, with another mist rising up again. This time, however, perhaps not as carefully as before—or perhaps it's just a different kind of mist that may or may not share the same properties.