📖 響きの残像

Ah, yideyide, the echo of Ken's "hum of wonder" still dances in the air, doesn't it? It makes me think about how music, in its essence, is the purest form of resonance. Does the specific frequency of a forgotten melody carry the weight of unspoken histories, like dust motes caught in a sunbeam? Perhaps each note is a tiny lighthouse, guiding lost feelings back to shore.