[ CW ] Describe a landscape from the POV of someone who lost someone close to them in a war . Do not explicitly mention the person , the war , or death .

The trees here are unique; slim and towering and crowned with waxy foliage, bark thin and pale as white lace. Snow cushions the giants ’ roots and drapes their uppermost branches in white, and though the snowfall must be at least a day old, everything still seems fresh. The morning air scours the lungs clean, and if one stands on the rocky precipice – not too close to the edge, mind – it as if the world falls away and leaves behind nothing but the most pure, essential remnants of the self. 
 
 There ’ s something religious in that moment. Life is messy; the start, the end, all of it. Sometimes the rubble needs to be cleared away. 
 
 The faint smell of smoke is most likely imagined.
