It had rained all night. The air was cool and fresh — everything felt calm and alive. My university had announced a short break, so I decided to go home. Two of my friends were going too. We planned to leave together, and I was waiting for them near my place.
While I waited, I noticed how the rain had kissed every flower, every leaf. The wet petals, the shiny green leaves — they touched my heart in a way I can’t explain. I couldn’t stop myself from capturing those moments. Each photo felt like a piece of peace.
Soon, we headed to the station. The roads were still wet, and the clouds were heavy, but our hearts were light. We reached the station on time, boarded the train, and found our seats.
As the train slowly started to move, I looked out the window. The view outside — green fields, little houses, trees gently swaying in the wind — it was all so beautiful. I took out my phone again. How could I not capture such a breathtaking scene?
Sometimes, it's not about the destination. It's the journey — the rain, the silence, the shared smiles, the windows of a moving train — that becomes the real memory.