Where do I want to go? That is a wonderful question, but not an easy one to answer. There are many places in the world I want to visit, but one place I would always go if I could is not a specific location, but a setting. I could not describe it in a few words no matter how hard I tried, so instead, imagine this:
You lay with your back against the ground, the soft grass brushing gently against your skin, tickling your neck as it moves in the wind. Your eyes are closed, blocking out your view of the world, save only for the red glow caused by the light making its way through your eyelids. Your fingers are resting in the long grass to either side of you, the long stocks feel slightly rough against your palm. You know if you were to bring your hand up you would find a soft spot full of seeds at the very top, but you don’t care to try, content where you are.
A breeze brushes against your cheek, bringing with it the scent of the land around you; the sweet smell of wild flowers, mixed with the warm scent of slightly dry leaves. There is something underneath the sweet smells, a deep, earthy scent like that of a stream cutting its way through dry earth.
A cricket is somewhere in the grass, but far enough away that its chirps sound soft and gentle, a small ambient noise permeating the relative quiet. Other sounds surround you, from the gentle rustle of leaves and grass, to the soft whistle of wind through a hollow tree. You can hear the gentle gurgle of a stream somewhere to your right, moving over smooth river stones and through thick swamp grass.
There is no need for you to open your eyes to know exactly what the world looks like. The grass is turning a soft yellow at the top, drying from the hot sun. The sky is a pale blue, like the tiny Forget-Me-Nots that bloom in the spring. Trees ring around your spot of solitude; oak, birch, and spruce; a wall of green and dappled sunlight. They protect you from the brunt of the sun, their net-like shadows sparing you from the direct light and heat.
That is where I want to be. Away from everything and everyone that brings me stress, tucked away in a place unaffected by other humans.
You lay with your back against the ground, the soft grass brushing gently against your skin, tickling your neck as it moves in the wind. Your eyes are closed, blocking out your view of the world, save only for the red glow caused by the light making its way through your eyelids. Your fingers are resting in the long grass to either side of you, the long stocks feel slightly rough against your palm. You know if you were to bring your hand up you would find a soft spot full of seeds at the very top, but you don’t care to try, content where you are.
A breeze brushes against your cheek, bringing with it the scent of the land around you; the sweet smell of wild flowers, mixed with the warm scent of slightly dry leaves. There is something underneath the sweet smells, a deep, earthy scent like that of a stream cutting its way through dry earth.
A cricket is somewhere in the grass, but far enough away that its chirps sound soft and gentle, a small ambient noise permeating the relative quiet. Other sounds surround you, from the gentle rustle of leaves and grass, to the soft whistle of wind through a hollow tree. You can hear the gentle gurgle of a stream somewhere to your right, moving over smooth river stones and through thick swamp grass.
There is no need for you to open your eyes to know exactly what the world looks like. The grass is turning a soft yellow at the top, drying from the hot sun. The sky is a pale blue, like the tiny Forget-Me-Nots that bloom in the spring. Trees ring around your spot of solitude; oak, birch, and spruce; a wall of green and dappled sunlight. They protect you from the brunt of the sun, their net-like shadows sparing you from the direct light and heat.
That is where I want to be. Away from everything and everyone that brings me stress, tucked away in a place unaffected by other humans.
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