Html Question posted in
Some basic documentation can be found here.

Html – CSS Sticky Image Centered in Viewport While Scrolling: Not Being in the Correct Location in the Initial Stage

I’m trying to create a webpage where an image remains centered in the viewport while scrolling. However, I’m facing some issues with the CSS. Right now, the image is scrolling down, but once it reaches the center of the viewport, it gets offset by 50% of its height, making it appear out of position.

Please take some time to look at my current codebase. There goes some wrong behavior in the initial section while scrolling.

html,
body {
  margin: 0;
  padding: 0;
  font-family: Arial, sans-serif;
}

h1 {
  margin: 16px;
}

p {
  margin: 16px;
}

.container {
  display: flex;
}

.text-container {
  width: 50%;
}

img {
  position: sticky;
  top: 50%;
  width: 100%;
  height: auto;
  transform: translateY(-50%);
}
<!DOCTYPE html>
<html lang="en">

<head>
  <meta charset="UTF-8">
  <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
  <title>Document</title>
  <link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css">
</head>

<body>
  <p>
    As I wandered through the endless expanse of the sprawling cityscape, with towering buildings on either side that
    seemed to stretch toward the heavens, their reflective glass windows capturing the ever-changing hues of the sky as
    the day transitioned into night, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of smallness, a kind of insignificance in the
    grand scheme
    of things, yet at the same time, there was this unmistakable undercurrent of being part of something much larger, as
    though the intricate web of human lives, crisscrossing each other like invisible lines of connection, brought us all
    together in a shared experience, and as the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting their warm glow on the
    cracked
    pavements below, the hum of traffic and the distant chatter of people became the background music to the unfolding
    scene, a soundtrack of urban life that continued relentlessly, day in and day out, without pause, without a moment
    to catch its breath, and in that moment, I felt myself being swept up in the rhythm of it all, like a leaf caught in
    the swirling currents of a fast-moving river, unsure of where it would end up but unable to resist the pull, and as
    I
    walked further, my footsteps echoing faintly against the walls of towering buildings that loomed overhead, I noticed
    the
    small details that often go unnoticed in the rush of everyday life—the weathered bricks of old structures that had
    stood
    the test of time, the faint graffiti scrawled in hidden corners, messages of rebellion or love or simply the need to
    leave a mark, however fleeting, and the way the light caught the delicate drops of rain that had begun to fall,
    turning the
    street into a shimmering mirror that reflected the city back upon itself, a distorted but beautiful image of a place
    that was constantly in flux, never quite the same from one moment to the next, always shifting, evolving, and
    growing, just as the people who inhabited it were, each carrying with them their own stories, their own struggles,
    and their
    own dreams, all weaving together in the vast, complex narrative that was this city, this living, breathing organism
    made
    up of countless lives intersecting in ways both obvious and subtle, and as I passed by a small park, a rare green
    space
    amidst the concrete jungle, I saw children laughing and playing, their carefree energy a sharp contrast to the
    hurried, tired faces of the adults rushing past, and it struck me how easily we lose that sense of wonder as we grow
    older,
    how
    the weight of responsibilities, of expectations, of the need to achieve and succeed and keep moving forward, often
    blinds us to the simple joys that once came so naturally, like the thrill of running through an open field, or the
    delight in watching a butterfly flutter by, or the peace that comes from lying on the grass and staring up at the
    clouds, imagining shapes and stories in their ever-shifting forms, and I wondered when exactly we lose that, when
    does
    the world start to seem smaller, less magical, more predictable, more constrained by the rules and limitations that
    adulthood imposes, and is it possible to get that sense of wonder back, or is it lost forever, a casualty of the
    inevitable march of time, and as I mused on these thoughts, I found myself walking toward the edge of the city,
    where
    the buildings began to thin out and the noise of the streets faded into a quiet hum, and beyond the city’s limits,
    the
    landscape opened up into wide, rolling hills that stretched as far as the eye could see, their soft green curves
    bathed
    in the golden light of the setting sun, and it was here, in this space between the bustling metropolis and the
    serene
    countryside, that I felt a strange sense of peace, as though I had stumbled upon a hidden threshold, a place where
    the
    chaos of modern life met the timeless stillness of nature, and as I stood there, looking out at the horizon, I felt
    a
    deep sense of connection to everything around me, to the city behind me, with its countless lives and stories, and
    to
    the land before me, with its quiet beauty and ancient rhythms, and it occurred to me that perhaps the key to finding
    balance in life lies in these in-between spaces, these moments of transition where we can step back from the rush
    and
    noise of the world and simply be, without the need to do or achieve or prove anything, and as the sun dipped lower
    in
    the sky, casting long shadows across the hills, I turned and began the walk back into the city, my mind quieter now,
    my
    thoughts no longer racing, and as I re-entered the familiar streets, now bathed in the soft glow of twilight, I felt
    a
    renewed appreciation for the small moments, for the beauty that can be found in the everyday, if only we take the
    time
    to notice it, and I realized that while the city may seem overwhelming at times, with its constant movement and
    endless
    demands, it is also a place of infinite possibility, where every person, every street, every corner holds the
    potential
    for new discoveries, new connections, new stories waiting to be written, and as I continued my journey through the
    city,
    I found myself paying closer attention to the world around me, noticing the way the light danced on the surface of
    the
    river that cut through the heart of the city, the way the wind whispered through the leaves of the trees that lined
    the
    streets, the way the sounds of laughter and conversation echoed off the walls of busy cafes, blending together into
    a
    symphony of human experience, and I felt grateful to be a part of it, to be alive in this moment, in this place,
    with
    all its imperfections and challenges, because there is beauty in the struggle, in the impermanence, in the knowledge
    that nothing stays the same, that everything is constantly changing, and that we, too, are always growing, learning,
    evolving, and that perhaps the greatest adventure of all is not in seeking out some distant, unattainable goal, but
    in
    embracing the journey itself, in finding meaning and joy in the here and now, in the people we meet, the places we
    go,
    the experiences we have, and in the quiet moments of reflection that remind us of who we are and what truly matters,
    and
    as the night began to fall, and the city lights twinkled like stars against the deepening sky, I walked on, my heart
    full, my mind at peace, knowing that tomorrow would bring its own challenges, its own surprises, its own moments of
    beauty and grace, and that no matter where the road might lead, I would be ready to face it, with open eyes, an open
    heart, and a sense of wonder that, though perhaps diminished by the passing of time, still flickered within me, like
    a
    small but steady flame, reminding me that life, in all its complexity and uncertainty, is a gift, one that we should
    never take for granted, and as I made my way back to my home, the familiar streets now quiet in the stillness of the
    night, I couldn’t help but smile, grateful for the journey I had taken, both within the city and within myself, and
    for
    the knowledge that, no matter what the future holds, there is always beauty to be found, always something new to
    discover, always a reason to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
  </p>

  <hr />

  <div class="container">
    <div class="text-container">
      As I wandered through the endless expanse of the sprawling cityscape, with towering buildings on either side that
      seemed
      to stretch toward the heavens, their reflective glass windows capturing the ever-changing hues of the sky as the
      day
      transitioned into night, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of smallness, a kind of insignificance in the grand
      scheme of
      things, yet at the same time, there was this unmistakable undercurrent of being part of something much larger, as
      though
      the intricate web of human lives, crisscrossing each other like invisible lines of connection, brought us all
      together
      in a shared experience, and as the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting their warm glow on the cracked
      pavements below, the hum of traffic and the distant chatter of people became the background music to the unfolding
      scene, a soundtrack of urban life that continued relentlessly, day in and day out, without pause, without a moment
      to
      catch its breath, and in that moment, I felt myself being swept up in the rhythm of it all, like a leaf caught in
      the
      swirling currents of a fast-moving river, unsure of where it would end up but unable to resist the pull, and as I
      walked
      further, my footsteps echoing faintly against the walls of towering buildings that loomed overhead, I noticed the
      small
      details that often go unnoticed in the rush of everyday life—the weathered bricks of old structures that had stood
      the
      test of time, the faint graffiti scrawled in hidden corners, messages of rebellion or love or simply the need to
      leave a
      mark, however fleeting, and the way the light caught the delicate drops of rain that had begun to fall, turning
      the
      street into a shimmering mirror that reflected the city back upon itself, a distorted but beautiful image of a
      place
      that was constantly in flux, never quite the same from one moment to the next, always shifting, evolving, and
      growing,
      just as the people who inhabited it were, each carrying with them their own stories, their own struggles, and
      their own
      dreams, all weaving together in the vast, complex narrative that was this city, this living, breathing organism
      made up
      of countless lives intersecting in ways both obvious and subtle, and as I passed by a small park, a rare green
      space
      amidst the concrete jungle, I saw children laughing and playing, their carefree energy a sharp contrast to the
      hurried,
      tired faces of the adults rushing past, and it struck me how easily we lose that sense of wonder as we grow older,
      how
      the weight of responsibilities, of expectations, of the need to achieve and succeed and keep moving forward, often
      blinds us to the simple joys that once came so naturally, like the thrill of running through an open field, or the
      delight in watching a butterfly flutter by, or the peace that comes from lying on the grass and staring up at the
      clouds, imagining shapes and stories in their ever-shifting forms, and I wondered when exactly we lose that, when
      does
      the world start to seem smaller, less magical, more predictable, more constrained by the rules and limitations
      that
      adulthood imposes, and is it possible to get that sense of wonder back, or is it lost forever, a casualty of the
      inevitable march of time, and as I mused on these thoughts, I found myself walking toward the edge of the city,
      where
      the buildings began to thin out and the noise of the streets faded into a quiet hum, and beyond the city’s limits,
      the
      landscape opened up into wide, rolling hills that stretched as far as the eye could see, their soft green curves
      bathed
      in the golden light of the setting sun, and it was here, in this space between the bustling metropolis and the
      serene
      countryside, that I felt a strange sense of peace, as though I had stumbled upon a hidden threshold, a place where
      the
      chaos of modern life met the timeless stillness of nature, and as I stood there, looking out at the horizon, I
      felt a
      deep sense of connection to everything around me, to the city behind me, with its countless lives and stories, and
      to
      the land before me, with its quiet beauty and ancient rhythms, and it occurred to me that perhaps the key to
      finding
      balance in life lies in these in-between spaces, these moments of transition where we can step back from the rush
      and
      noise of the world and simply be, without the need to do or achieve or prove anything, and as the sun dipped lower
      in
      the sky, casting long shadows across the hills, I turned and began the walk back into the city, my mind quieter
      now, my
      thoughts no longer racing, and as I re-entered the familiar streets, now bathed in the soft glow of twilight, I
      felt a
      renewed appreciation for the small moments, for the beauty that can be found in the everyday, if only we take the
      time
      to notice it, and I realized that while the city may seem overwhelming at times, with its constant movement and
      endless
      demands, it is also a place of infinite possibility, where every person, every street, every corner holds the
      potential
      for new discoveries, new connections, new stories waiting to be written, and as I continued my journey through the
      city,
      I found myself paying closer attention to the world around me, noticing the way the light danced on the surface of
      the
      river that cut through the heart of the city, the way the wind whispered through the leaves of the trees that
      lined the
      streets, the way the sounds of laughter and conversation echoed off the walls of busy cafes, blending together
      into a
      symphony of human experience, and I felt grateful to be a part of it, to be alive in this moment, in this place,
      with
      all its imperfections and challenges, because there is beauty in the struggle, in the impermanence, in the
      knowledge
      that nothing stays the same, that everything is constantly changing, and that we, too, are always growing,
      learning,
      evolving, and that perhaps the greatest adventure of all is not in seeking out some distant, unattainable goal,
      but in
      embracing the journey itself, in finding meaning and joy in the here and now, in the people we meet, the places we
      go,
      the experiences we have, and in the quiet moments of reflection that remind us of who we are and what truly
      matters, and
      as the night began to fall, and the city lights twinkled like stars against the deepening sky, I walked on, my
      heart
      full, my mind at peace, knowing that tomorrow would bring its own challenges, its own surprises, its own moments
      of
      beauty and grace, and that no matter where the road might lead, I would be ready to face it, with open eyes, an
      open
      heart, and a sense of wonder that, though perhaps diminished by the passing of time, still flickered within me,
      like a
      small but steady flame, reminding me that life, in all its complexity and uncertainty, is a gift, one that we
      should
      never take for granted, and as I made my way back to my home, the familiar streets now quiet in the stillness of
      the
      night, I couldn’t help but smile, grateful for the journey I had taken, both within the city and within myself,
      and for
      the knowledge that, no matter what the future holds, there is always beauty to be found, always something new to
      discover, always a reason to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
    </div>

    <div class="image-container">
      <img src="https://dummyimage.com/600x400/0000ff/fff" alt="office">
    </div>
  </div>
</body>

</html>
Tags:

3

Answers


  1. 0

    Remove your transform and top css property and use this small js script to your file:

    const image = document.getElementsByTagName('img')[0];
const centerValue = image.height / 2;
image.style.top = `calc(50% - ${centerValue}px)`;

    Make sure you are selecting a true image with this JS script. I just selected an image in your document.

    Login or Signup to reply.
  2. 0

    Well, The problem you are facing is due to transform: translateY(-50%)

    Bcoz, your expectations are it to go into middle but its getting applied at the start so If you got the height you can do that with only css with either calc function or go with the parent having margin-top

    With calc():-

    --image-height: 400px;
top: calc(50% - (var(--image-height) / 2));

    and with margin-top:-

    --image-height: 400px;
margin-top: var(--image-height) / 2;

    Or with JS(since the solution is already posted so I ain’t doing it);

    And another thing is that you can even set the --image-height variable name with JS which might be better solution.

    Login or Signup to reply.
  3. 0

    Instead of an image, the .image-container can be sticky:

    • This container will stretch to a full height of the viewport.
    • The image will be centered vertically within the container.
    • To prevent overflow, the height of an image will be limited.
    html,
body {
  margin: 0;
  padding: 0;
  font-family: Arial, sans-serif;
}

h1 {
  margin: 16px;
}

p {
  margin: 16px;
}

.container {
  display: flex;
}

.text-container {
  width: 50%;
}

.image-container {
  position: sticky;
  top: 0;
  height: 100vh;
  display: flex;
  align-items: center;
}

img {
  max-height: 100%;
}
    <!DOCTYPE html>
<html lang="en">

<head>
  <meta charset="UTF-8">
  <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
  <title>Document</title>
  <link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css">
</head>

<body>
  <p>
    As I wandered through the endless expanse of the sprawling cityscape, with towering buildings on either side that seemed to stretch toward the heavens, their reflective glass windows capturing the ever-changing hues of the sky as the day transitioned
    into night, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of smallness, a kind of insignificance in the grand scheme of things, yet at the same time, there was this unmistakable undercurrent of being part of something much larger, as though the intricate web of
    human lives, crisscrossing each other like invisible lines of connection, brought us all together in a shared experience, and as the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting their warm glow on the cracked pavements below, the hum of traffic and
    the distant chatter of people became the background music to the unfolding scene, a soundtrack of urban life that continued relentlessly, day in and day out, without pause, without a moment to catch its breath, and in that moment, I felt myself being
    swept up in the rhythm of it all, like a leaf caught in the swirling currents of a fast-moving river, unsure of where it would end up but unable to resist the pull, and as I walked further, my footsteps echoing faintly against the walls of towering
    buildings that loomed overhead, I noticed the small details that often go unnoticed in the rush of everyday life—the weathered bricks of old structures that had stood the test of time, the faint graffiti scrawled in hidden corners, messages of rebellion
    or love or simply the need to leave a mark, however fleeting, and the way the light caught the delicate drops of rain that had begun to fall, turning the street into a shimmering mirror that reflected the city back upon itself, a distorted but beautiful
    image of a place that was constantly in flux, never quite the same from one moment to the next, always shifting, evolving, and growing, just as the people who inhabited it were, each carrying with them their own stories, their own struggles, and their
    own dreams, all weaving together in the vast, complex narrative that was this city, this living, breathing organism made up of countless lives intersecting in ways both obvious and subtle, and as I passed by a small park, a rare green space amidst
    the concrete jungle, I saw children laughing and playing, their carefree energy a sharp contrast to the hurried, tired faces of the adults rushing past, and it struck me how easily we lose that sense of wonder as we grow older, how the weight of responsibilities,
    of expectations, of the need to achieve and succeed and keep moving forward, often blinds us to the simple joys that once came so naturally, like the thrill of running through an open field, or the delight in watching a butterfly flutter by, or the
    peace that comes from lying on the grass and staring up at the clouds, imagining shapes and stories in their ever-shifting forms, and I wondered when exactly we lose that, when does the world start to seem smaller, less magical, more predictable,
    more constrained by the rules and limitations that adulthood imposes, and is it possible to get that sense of wonder back, or is it lost forever, a casualty of the inevitable march of time, and as I mused on these thoughts, I found myself walking
    toward the edge of the city, where the buildings began to thin out and the noise of the streets faded into a quiet hum, and beyond the city’s limits, the landscape opened up into wide, rolling hills that stretched as far as the eye could see, their
    soft green curves bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, and it was here, in this space between the bustling metropolis and the serene countryside, that I felt a strange sense of peace, as though I had stumbled upon a hidden threshold, a place
    where the chaos of modern life met the timeless stillness of nature, and as I stood there, looking out at the horizon, I felt a deep sense of connection to everything around me, to the city behind me, with its countless lives and stories, and to the
    land before me, with its quiet beauty and ancient rhythms, and it occurred to me that perhaps the key to finding balance in life lies in these in-between spaces, these moments of transition where we can step back from the rush and noise of the world
    and simply be, without the need to do or achieve or prove anything, and as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the hills, I turned and began the walk back into the city, my mind quieter now, my thoughts no longer racing, and
    as I re-entered the familiar streets, now bathed in the soft glow of twilight, I felt a renewed appreciation for the small moments, for the beauty that can be found in the everyday, if only we take the time to notice it, and I realized that while
    the city may seem overwhelming at times, with its constant movement and endless demands, it is also a place of infinite possibility, where every person, every street, every corner holds the potential for new discoveries, new connections, new stories
    waiting to be written, and as I continued my journey through the city, I found myself paying closer attention to the world around me, noticing the way the light danced on the surface of the river that cut through the heart of the city, the way the
    wind whispered through the leaves of the trees that lined the streets, the way the sounds of laughter and conversation echoed off the walls of busy cafes, blending together into a symphony of human experience, and I felt grateful to be a part of it,
    to be alive in this moment, in this place, with all its imperfections and challenges, because there is beauty in the struggle, in the impermanence, in the knowledge that nothing stays the same, that everything is constantly changing, and that we,
    too, are always growing, learning, evolving, and that perhaps the greatest adventure of all is not in seeking out some distant, unattainable goal, but in embracing the journey itself, in finding meaning and joy in the here and now, in the people we
    meet, the places we go, the experiences we have, and in the quiet moments of reflection that remind us of who we are and what truly matters, and as the night began to fall, and the city lights twinkled like stars against the deepening sky, I walked
    on, my heart full, my mind at peace, knowing that tomorrow would bring its own challenges, its own surprises, its own moments of beauty and grace, and that no matter where the road might lead, I would be ready to face it, with open eyes, an open heart,
    and a sense of wonder that, though perhaps diminished by the passing of time, still flickered within me, like a small but steady flame, reminding me that life, in all its complexity and uncertainty, is a gift, one that we should never take for granted,
    and as I made my way back to my home, the familiar streets now quiet in the stillness of the night, I couldn’t help but smile, grateful for the journey I had taken, both within the city and within myself, and for the knowledge that, no matter what
    the future holds, there is always beauty to be found, always something new to discover, always a reason to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
  </p>

  <hr />

  <div class="container">
    <div class="text-container">
      As I wandered through the endless expanse of the sprawling cityscape, with towering buildings on either side that seemed to stretch toward the heavens, their reflective glass windows capturing the ever-changing hues of the sky as the day transitioned
      into night, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of smallness, a kind of insignificance in the grand scheme of things, yet at the same time, there was this unmistakable undercurrent of being part of something much larger, as though the intricate web
      of human lives, crisscrossing each other like invisible lines of connection, brought us all together in a shared experience, and as the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting their warm glow on the cracked pavements below, the hum of traffic
      and the distant chatter of people became the background music to the unfolding scene, a soundtrack of urban life that continued relentlessly, day in and day out, without pause, without a moment to catch its breath, and in that moment, I felt myself
      being swept up in the rhythm of it all, like a leaf caught in the swirling currents of a fast-moving river, unsure of where it would end up but unable to resist the pull, and as I walked further, my footsteps echoing faintly against the walls of
      towering buildings that loomed overhead, I noticed the small details that often go unnoticed in the rush of everyday life—the weathered bricks of old structures that had stood the test of time, the faint graffiti scrawled in hidden corners, messages
      of rebellion or love or simply the need to leave a mark, however fleeting, and the way the light caught the delicate drops of rain that had begun to fall, turning the street into a shimmering mirror that reflected the city back upon itself, a distorted
      but beautiful image of a place that was constantly in flux, never quite the same from one moment to the next, always shifting, evolving, and growing, just as the people who inhabited it were, each carrying with them their own stories, their own
      struggles, and their own dreams, all weaving together in the vast, complex narrative that was this city, this living, breathing organism made up of countless lives intersecting in ways both obvious and subtle, and as I passed by a small park, a
      rare green space amidst the concrete jungle, I saw children laughing and playing, their carefree energy a sharp contrast to the hurried, tired faces of the adults rushing past, and it struck me how easily we lose that sense of wonder as we grow
      older, how the weight of responsibilities, of expectations, of the need to achieve and succeed and keep moving forward, often blinds us to the simple joys that once came so naturally, like the thrill of running through an open field, or the delight
      in watching a butterfly flutter by, or the peace that comes from lying on the grass and staring up at the clouds, imagining shapes and stories in their ever-shifting forms, and I wondered when exactly we lose that, when does the world start to seem
      smaller, less magical, more predictable, more constrained by the rules and limitations that adulthood imposes, and is it possible to get that sense of wonder back, or is it lost forever, a casualty of the inevitable march of time, and as I mused
      on these thoughts, I found myself walking toward the edge of the city, where the buildings began to thin out and the noise of the streets faded into a quiet hum, and beyond the city’s limits, the landscape opened up into wide, rolling hills that
      stretched as far as the eye could see, their soft green curves bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, and it was here, in this space between the bustling metropolis and the serene countryside, that I felt a strange sense of peace, as though
      I had stumbled upon a hidden threshold, a place where the chaos of modern life met the timeless stillness of nature, and as I stood there, looking out at the horizon, I felt a deep sense of connection to everything around me, to the city behind
      me, with its countless lives and stories, and to the land before me, with its quiet beauty and ancient rhythms, and it occurred to me that perhaps the key to finding balance in life lies in these in-between spaces, these moments of transition where
      we can step back from the rush and noise of the world and simply be, without the need to do or achieve or prove anything, and as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the hills, I turned and began the walk back into the city,
      my mind quieter now, my thoughts no longer racing, and as I re-entered the familiar streets, now bathed in the soft glow of twilight, I felt a renewed appreciation for the small moments, for the beauty that can be found in the everyday, if only
      we take the time to notice it, and I realized that while the city may seem overwhelming at times, with its constant movement and endless demands, it is also a place of infinite possibility, where every person, every street, every corner holds the
      potential for new discoveries, new connections, new stories waiting to be written, and as I continued my journey through the city, I found myself paying closer attention to the world around me, noticing the way the light danced on the surface of
      the river that cut through the heart of the city, the way the wind whispered through the leaves of the trees that lined the streets, the way the sounds of laughter and conversation echoed off the walls of busy cafes, blending together into a symphony
      of human experience, and I felt grateful to be a part of it, to be alive in this moment, in this place, with all its imperfections and challenges, because there is beauty in the struggle, in the impermanence, in the knowledge that nothing stays
      the same, that everything is constantly changing, and that we, too, are always growing, learning, evolving, and that perhaps the greatest adventure of all is not in seeking out some distant, unattainable goal, but in embracing the journey itself,
      in finding meaning and joy in the here and now, in the people we meet, the places we go, the experiences we have, and in the quiet moments of reflection that remind us of who we are and what truly matters, and as the night began to fall, and the
      city lights twinkled like stars against the deepening sky, I walked on, my heart full, my mind at peace, knowing that tomorrow would bring its own challenges, its own surprises, its own moments of beauty and grace, and that no matter where the road
      might lead, I would be ready to face it, with open eyes, an open heart, and a sense of wonder that, though perhaps diminished by the passing of time, still flickered within me, like a small but steady flame, reminding me that life, in all its complexity
      and uncertainty, is a gift, one that we should never take for granted, and as I made my way back to my home, the familiar streets now quiet in the stillness of the night, I couldn’t help but smile, grateful for the journey I had taken, both within
      the city and within myself, and for the knowledge that, no matter what the future holds, there is always beauty to be found, always something new to discover, always a reason to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
    </div>

    <div class="image-container">
      <img src="https://dummyimage.com/600x400/0000ff/fff" alt="office">
    </div>
  </div>
</body>

</html>
    Login or Signup to reply.
Please signup or login to give your own answer.

Back To Top
Search