In the mist in which existence lies, memories crystalize from past moments lived. Might be altered, might become in part fiction, but no less real. A moment that goes beyond the perceptible reality. As if the encoding of light and sound by the mind has warped into a fluid form of existence. A static state of constant movement. A ride into the fading waves of remembrance, where falcons of the inner eye murmur above a sea of silver-like memories.