Zephyr

By Zephyr

Break

I raise my arms.
I close my eyes.
I breath.
The sound of a hundred thousand rustling paper bags encompasses me.
Momentarily I'm transported.
Solitarily, I find myself standing on the edge of a cliff, the elemental sounds of waves crashing and battering a rugged coastline beneath my feet...
Then i'm in a recently sown field, a gunshot is fired and the sound echoes like thunder.
Now it is a sea of crows I look upon. They take flight and their hurried wings collectively blacken the sky.
My mind only returns to the forest when a thousand years of growing begins its earthly moaning.
The creaking and cracking of old wood as it rhythmically sways in the wind is an ancient sound.
I am in a time forgotten, an old world in a new world.
I lean into the wind as it intensifies,
I breath.
Then the sound of laughter. Faint at first as it is distantly carried to me on the wind. My intrigue takes hold, I follow.
I push on through the undergrowth, my feet sinking into the soft orange leaf mulch that carpets the floor.
Two red faced children in shiny pearlescent rain macs take it in turn to push each other in a tyre swing.
They're howls of excitement are cheered on by an audience of a million leaves all applauding at once.
The boy, desperate to make his red wellies touch the canopy above, kicks ferociously harder with each failed attempt.
Such joy, such innocence.

and such a lovely lunch-break.

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