Again, I stand alone in this dark spot gazing at the tree branches that seem to desire being one with the mist. I was on the same spot ages ago when my feet were still small and my knees wobbly from trying to reach this mystical space I call my secret abode. The beauty I saw then is still the same beauty I am seeing now.
The trees were neither young nor old; its thin branches forever reaching and flirting with the fog. The pungent fragrance of the grass always gives me a calm and blissful feeling, detaching me from the erratic and crazy world I live in. And that peaceful silence hanging on the air adds up to the loveliness of the whole dominion.
Who would not want to stay here a little bit longer? Who would not want to be one with the mist, the trees, the grass…
View original post 37 more words