Under the weight of a gentle storm, the deep temple bells toll a slow, grounding hymn that draws scattered thoughts into still water. Their bronze tones, softened by rain, hang in the air like prayers worn smooth by wind. A lone wind bell trembles after each strike, its shiver tracing the edge of breath, keeping the mind anchored to this quiet, rain-washed present. Here, the storm does not rage; it settles, and so do you.