The first gentle light of May filters through the mountain mist, gilding a village nestled in the valley below. In the crisp morning air, the scent of damp earth mingles with the promise of new life. Wild rose bushes unfurl their first pale blooms shyly to the sun. Nimble fingers pick each blossom, cradling them like treasures in woven baskets. Nearby, lavender stems freshly cut from the fields release their powdery fragrance, filling the morning with calm. On the line, the crisp washing sways gently, catching the golden light. The nearby fields are a riot of early summer wildflowers—yellow buttercups, purple clover, and migrating lavender sway in unison, nodding their heads as if in conversation with the wind. Bees drowsy from the richness of nectar buzz around sparrows darting in playful arcs above the hay laid out to dry. Rose petals and lavender are spread out on a wide linen cloth in the sun, letting their colours bloom anew under the gentle rays. This world is alive with an unspoken pleasure—a celebration of lush spring beauty, lightness, and the gentle rhythm of life.