Midnight in a Provençal Lavender Field "The lavender fields of Provence stretch endlessly beneath a dark, glittering sky. The night wind carries the scent of flowers, mingling with something more elusive—like old parchment and the ghost of a forgotten melody. A woven basket, half-filled with lavender, rests on the dirt path, abandoned. The distant farmhouse glows faintly, its chimney releasing the last traces of a dying fire. But the fields are not silent. The lavender stalks rustle, though there is no breeze. Something unseen moves between the rows, its presence felt, but never seen."