A gentle dusk settles over a rain-softened grove in Ahmedabad, where last rains bead on mango leaves and the earth sighs in green. Owls call low and far (Owl 2), their mournful hoots slipping between the tremolo of warblers (Warbler) and the warm murmur of water over mossy stones (Waterfall). These layers fold into one another like incense smoke curling around prayer beads, each sound a quiet exhale after the storm. Made for stillness, for breath, this is the hush your mind returns to when your