The early bird catches the worm : In the quiet of dawn, where mist clings to the earth like a whispered secret, the morning sun breaks through, spilling gold across the horizon. The mist, soft and ethereal, holds the light tenderly, turning the air into a shimmering veil of gold. Each dewdrop glows like a hidden jewel, and the world, still half-dreaming, awakens beneath this delicate light. There’s a magic here—where the sun meets the mist—transforming the ordinary into something rare, as if the morning itself is spun from threads of gold, woven into the fabric of time.