Deeper in the woods, the ground is carpeted with copper leaves, the last relics of autumn, and the air is thick with the scent of earth and memory. The central beech leans, not broken but resolute, its curve a lesson in adaptation, in the art of standing tall by bending with the storm. Here, the forest offers no easy paths, only the invitation to walk on, to trust your steps even when the way is lost to the mist.