Strolling the streets of old Beirut, one gazes in wonder at its mysteries and layers of endless textures, remembering civilizations that passed through it and a recent ongoing history of constant permanence and impermanence. Amidst the chaos, sounds of cars honking, Beirutis chanting and glasses clinking, moments of serenity and pockets of nature lead through narrow alleys into abundant spaces. The smell of jasmine, dancing palm shadows on the ground, birds chirping, plants climbing concrete walls, and fragrant colors emerging, takes you through a journey of times. Remaining strong, remaining still, undefeated. Broken, wounded, scarred, and wrinkled. The light shall always pass through.