She leaned onto a log, covered in moss, the smell of those fresh dew drops on these, one can’t resist those. She didn’t mind the dirt on her dress nor did she care for the tiny bugs blissfully exploring her arms. This was a daily routine. The sun was just out, there was enough light to see the raw beauty of this world. The golden colour slowly covered the vastness of the land like a blanket. Suddenly, the perspective changed. The darkness ,the moonlit sky and stars and the silhouette made by them reminded her of the picture of the Universe. She thought of the times she had missed this beautiful view. She never realized what it was that this view could give her. It was not the picturesque scenery that poets talked about in their poems, it was not that, there was so much more. It was her life. It was what it had to offer, it was what she refused to see, it was all the positivity that the artificiality hid away. There is so much more. When will we all see this?
She slowly pushed away from the log, wrapped her arms around herself, and breathed. It felt good to be alive. She stared right into the sun. While the wind took her hair on a beautiful yet wild date. She attributed her life to this phenomenon. It felt good, yet, it was taxing. The knots that the wind made with her hair, the water that it drained,the long hours that would follow in carefully bringing it back to normal. She thought, to experience this beautiful feeling I need to accept everything that comes with it, the cool breeze that the wind brought, the sweet caresses that it gifted her, the knots and the dehydration. It is a package. When will we understand it?