As I stood on the fringe of the woodland panorama, I used to be struck by the kaleidoscope of colours that danced earlier than my eyes. The timber, tall and majestic, stood sentinel, their trunks a deep grey that appeared to soak up the dappled mild filtering by means of the cover above. Their branches, etched in opposition to the sky like delicate pen and ink drawings, have been a wealthy brown that appeared to glow with an inside heat. However it was the leaves themselves that really stole the present – a vibrant inexperienced that shimmered and rustled softly within the mild breeze like a refrain of whispers. And but, scattered all through the panorama have been flashes of white – wispy clouds drifting lazily throughout the sky, or the occasional burst of froth on the distant river that wound its approach by means of the valley beneath. However as I gazed out upon this tapestry of colours, my eyes have been drawn inexorably to the blue mountains that rose up like giants on the horizon – their rugged peaks nonetheless capped with a dusting of snow, at the same time as summer time slowly started its ascent. It was as if the very essence of the pure world had been distilled into this second – an ideal concord of grey, black, brown, inexperienced, white, blue – every factor mixing seamlessly into the following to create a panorama that was directly each serene and awe-inspiring. And as I stood there, consuming all of it in, I felt my very own spirit start to soar – lifted aloft on the wings of magnificence itself.
