This is a re-post from Estelea’s Blog, and I take no credit whatsoever in the writing of this post. That being said, I’m just re-posting simply because, I just love the way it was being written:
The cold air tickles my nose and ears. The sun is my sweetest pashmina, caressing my face and arms. My soul welcomes the forest’s unique flagrance where leaves and nuts fall onto the humid earth. I can feel my heart smiling on every breath I take.
I only went out for a walk and time has stopped. The centenarian trees get the perspectives right. See me, see them. Who is in charge?
Forests have always been my playground. I grew up in the historical city of Fontainebleau, kingdom of kings and emperors. If those trees would talk, they would picture dramatic hunting games, Napoleon’s most intimate dramas, but also some juicy gossips of the Court…
I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.
I thought this was beautifully written. Full of soul. Heart-felt. And a little poetic, even. The picture speaks of emotions I cannot even describe in plain, simple words. It can only be felt deep within and I can feel it running through my veins.
Makes me want to walk out of my high-rise apartment and get away from this noisy city for a little of a quiet walk into the woods to silence my crowded head.
Dearest French Mama, I hope you don’t mind me sharing your beautifully crafted piece here.