Blossoming trees, flowing rivers, fresh air:
a small leaf, growing from a branch
a small flower, sprouting from the ground
a small child, dancing in the rain
Springtime.
Nature surrounds us.
Its frosty winter breath is beginning to fade,
replaced with the warm, caressing touch of sunlight
reflected on icy ponds beginning to thaw
rifting, then melting into still, reflective pools of water.
The bright snow melts away,
leaving green bursts of colour
lifting a soft blanket to reveal blooming flora
lessening the brilliant white of the world.
All around us, the birds chirp and twitter, as if awakened by the coming of a new season
Singing beautiful songs, they announce to the whole world a new beginning.
We walk on the trail;
grey hoodie, blue pants, white runners.
We are the only ones here.
Starting to walk faster:
eyes searching for hidden beauties, but our legs keep moving.
We start to jog.
The forest is no longer filled with the chirps of the birds, nor the rattling of the leaves.
We can only hear our own footsteps, our own heavy breaths.
We are running now, oblivious to our surroundings.
Everything is a blur of white and green.
There are no trees, no birds, no snow.
Only streaks of disproportionate colour.
Slow down.
We must slow down.
We can see the trees now, and the snow, but the air is still filled with our footsteps.
Slower.
Everything takes shape.
Even slower.
Observe our surroundings. Gaze through the trees.
Stop, and stay still.
Watch as the forest comes to life.
Birds here, squirrels there.
Everything has shape, everything has colour.
Dark mahogany, light oak, dark green, bright yellow.
Reflective puddles of water at our feet.
Those pools of water are mirrors.
Looking at ourselves, we know we must slow down to enjoy the moment, and to enjoy life.
