A Walk Through Wild Green
The meadow sprawls, green upon green, like a living breath beneath my white boots, the sunlight dripping in golden pools through gaps in the clouds, streaming down to catch the shine of dew on blades of grass, shimmering jewels scattered among the stems.
Here, wildflowers peek, purple and yellow, delicate heads pushing through the tangle of emerald, fighting space with the unruly weeds, and everything looks the same, but different, a wildness captured, but never tamed. My feet sink softly, a rhythm broken by each step. Crunch, sigh, hush…
A breeze ripples, stirring the high grasses, whispering secrets between buttercups, and I watch the shadows stretch long, pulled by the clouds that lumber lazily across the sky. Time stutters, stops, and the meadow keeps breathing, this sea of greens, under a sun that slips and dips behind a downy drift.
The white of my boots flashes against Earth's pulse, striking a contrast that feels alive, as if I were dancing with the meadow's soul. The colors swirl, blend, bleed, and the sunlight falls again, blushing warm on the meadow, where all things bright and green will grow.