As the track wound down to the choppy reservoir , we found ourselves at the base of a presentation of tall, sky scraping trees. So tall it was like the very tips were painting the clouds in the sky with every sway. Their leaves began to roar as the wind increased in strength, louder and louder. The darkess at the foot sparkled in broken sunlight as the tops bent and relented. Like a drum roll from nature the crescendo peaked and the trees relaxed, I stood there and watched as the dance began again, the children were running a slalom between the narrow trunks, flashes of their bright coats weaving in between the thick shadows, the wind pushing them forward, their laughs carried with the whispers of the breeze.
I could have stood there for longer, just listening, just watching the pallet of the landscape change with the speed of the clouds moving across the sun. As I walked on, a blast of brightness would alight the deep blue water into glitter like shimmers, each choppy wave adorned with a frosted finish, bobbing birds navigated the agitated water like corks under a running tap.
There's something wonderfully peaceful about nature, I often wonder if I am a secret hippy, I could quite happily retire to a remote part of a hill and set up a farm somewhere, waking up to the sun and the wind every morning. But for now I'll enjoy it through fleeting walks, hopefully passing the enjoyment onto my children. One day that roar of the wind will be mine, and the shimmer of the sun will be from my eyes.