As we meander by means of the labyrinthine trails that weave collectively the tapestry of woodlandscapes, our gaze falls upon an arresting palette that defies the monotony of city existence. The grey-black-brown-green-white bushes stand sentinel, their bark a testomony to the unforgiving forces of nature which have formed their rugged magnificence over time. The mild rustle of leaves whispers secrets and techniques to the wind as daylight filters by means of the cover above, casting dappled shadows that dance throughout the forest ground like Nature’s personal choreographed ballet. And but, it’s the mountains that type the majestic backdrop in opposition to which this tableau unfolds – their rugged blueness piercing the sky like shards of splintered glass, their peaks reaching for the heavens with an otherworldly depth. The woodlandscapes themselves appear alive, pulsing with an historical power that programs by means of each molecule of earth and air alike – an power that speaks on to our very souls.
As we breathe in deeply, the scent of damp earth rises as much as greet us, mingling with the candy perfume of blooming wildflowers to create an intoxicating bouquet that intoxicates our senses anew. Each step reveals some hidden treasure – a hidden glade bathed in emerald gentle, maybe, or a crystal-clear brook whose melodic music offers an accompaniment to our personal introspective musings. The bushes loom bigger now, their branches twisted into unimaginable shapes by the capricious hand of time – sentinels guarding secrets and techniques whispered on the wind, or maybe merely bearing witness to the passage of seasons because the world round them ebbs and flows like some nice tidal drive. On this mystical realm, our personal petty considerations fade away into insignificance – leaving us free to bask within the majesty of creation itself, our spirits hovering like birds let out upon the updrafts of marvel.
