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BodyIn this nature's hug of ever open arms of brown, cozy beneath the canopy of greens, there is a welcoming spirit that calls. It is as if there is something in me the trees can feel and they chatter to it, my intuition perhaps. There is a softness to the woodland floor, to the moss that supports and springs back. The woodland is the birdsong, it is the playful light and it is the serenity of time that flows without the clocks of man.
From the beech trees tumble golden leaves, even though each canopy appears so green. They come as if scattered by a happy child, surfing upon a gentle breeze. To walk through them is a joy, a nature given serenity. And in those moments, those living photographs, I am at peace.
Of all the things on this woodland walk, it is the acorns I love best. They lie cold on the soil, bright against the dark rain soaked ground. Their shells glisten with drops poised to run home to earth, sitting proud on the impervious shell. They are every childhood tale, every meal for the squirrels , the embodiment of fall. On my kitchen window sill sits a bowl of acorns from last season, dried and several hues more dull than these. With the bounty of the woodland tucked safe in my pocket I turn to take the path to Astera.
The wind in my hair, the sun in my face, it is truly a delight, the most delightful of feelings is the one where you are your own master, but the road is your mistress. I let my mind wander, it is a luxury I have this days, since peace all be it temporary in my eyes has fallen upon the land. Before I know it, I arrive at my destination, a new chapter of my journey waiting to be written.
WC: 319/300
From the beech trees tumble golden leaves, even though each canopy appears so green. They come as if scattered by a happy child, surfing upon a gentle breeze. To walk through them is a joy, a nature given serenity. And in those moments, those living photographs, I am at peace.
Of all the things on this woodland walk, it is the acorns I love best. They lie cold on the soil, bright against the dark rain soaked ground. Their shells glisten with drops poised to run home to earth, sitting proud on the impervious shell. They are every childhood tale, every meal for the squirrels , the embodiment of fall. On my kitchen window sill sits a bowl of acorns from last season, dried and several hues more dull than these. With the bounty of the woodland tucked safe in my pocket I turn to take the path to Astera.
The wind in my hair, the sun in my face, it is truly a delight, the most delightful of feelings is the one where you are your own master, but the road is your mistress. I let my mind wander, it is a luxury I have this days, since peace all be it temporary in my eyes has fallen upon the land. Before I know it, I arrive at my destination, a new chapter of my journey waiting to be written.
WC: 319/300
[EXIT]
![Orchidia to Astera [FOOT TRAVEL] LGnxHvk](https://i.imgur.com/lGnxHvk.jpg)
![Orchidia to Astera [FOOT TRAVEL] Voting_bar](https://2img.net/i/fa/prosilver/voting_bar.png){kind=small}
