I see the rolling hills, green and lush

under the clear, blue skies of summer.

In the distance a halo of towering pines encloses the field casting long, skeletal shadows over the peaceful clearing.

I smell the wildflowers whose aroma
is carried in the soft calm winds.

Edging towards the cool dark forest, a pungent earthy smell blows through the trees and wafts around my head in a strong gust of wind.

I hear the bees buzzing, rustling
the colourful flowers as they work.

From ahead I hear a shrill cry from the bright sky, I turn my ears towards the deafening wind only to hear the cry again, a bald eagle.

I feel the cool wind against my
skin, sending my hair in a tangle.

Travelling along the gravelly route, a branch garners my jacket which I quickly retrieve and re equip then continue my journey down the sunny forest trail.

I taste the blackberries sweet,
ripe and full with flavour.

I procure a canteen from my pack, purse my lips, and take a sip. It is tinny and metallic but still quite refreshing.

I find my way back from the forest to the field. This place of life, away from the fuss of the busy world. This place has beauty that others will never know.

I think to myself about the peace here,
and wish I could stay forever.

But alas all good things must come to an
end, this we must accept. For it has always been.

I see the rolling hills green and lush
under the clear, blue skies of summer.

And I bid it farewell.