There are nights when the veil thins—not with thunder, but with stillness. When the world holds its breath, and something sacred stirs beneath the trees. This painting captures one such night. A shimmered hush beneath the moon. Fireflies pulse like soul fragments, flickering in and out of visibility—echoes of memory, spirit, and dream. Two deer—half-seen, half-imagined—cross the dreamlit forest, their presence more spirit than flesh. In many traditions, deer are messengers of the sacred—guides across thresholds, symbols of grace in motion. They carry silence like an offering. They are attuned to the language of the wild and the deep rhythms of the earth. Their appearance marks a liminal crossing: between day and night, earth and sky, body and soul. The Path of the Spirit Deer is a moment between moments. A soft crossing. A whisper from the wild. A prayer made not with words, but with dreams; with light and breath and shadow.