Rain drops. Then a bit harder. You look up to the sky, then far in the horizon, no clue of the sun, no brightness, only shades of grey and black. The way it looks you think the sun will never be seen again. And then it stops. The sun is picking through the clouds. They’re moving fast, you can actually see their movement, as if in a hurry to get somewhere. “Run to the forest”, the voices in her head woke her up from the glooming feeling of the grey and the darkness, “run, run now, before it starts again”. And so she did. With her backpack ready, rain jacket, hat, camera and water, sunglasses on her head and out of the door on her morning adventure.
The smell, just as it is, wet grass, wet wood, wet air, so fresh it makes you sneeze. So quiet, you can hear the rain drops falling off the trees with the movement of the branches from the calm breeze. Between the water, the bushes, the trees, flowers, corn filed on one side, farm house on the other, the magical scene is intensified by the mist ahead. She stopped on the side of the track to look, observe, listen and enjoy.
She took out the camera to try and catch the moment. She put the camera in the side pocket of the backpack when she felt an itch, a scratch from the itchy bushes that sting forever.
The rest of her walk she was dancing in the woods…
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