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Misting Forest
I’m sitting on rock; close to the where the streaming water flows. On the rock there is moss, as thick as a layer of dirt covering the earth. The moss almost like grass, grows slowly, covering the rock in a silky, mangled web. I was in a forest, as beautiful as it was in the movies, maybe more. As I run my hand along the soft, green area, I breathe in the foggy smell; almost like freshly cut greenery, only sweeter. A gentle mist lands across my face, as I listen to the streaming water. Swooshing across the rocks, coming down vastly enough, to land in a pool below, with a slap. As I open my eyes to capture the purified moment, the water splashed across my whole body, dousing me with cold but refreshing water. I felt revived, as if I had been resting for a long time now. I have awoken, only to see a new world, a new world with the sounds of insects, and new noises I hadn’t heard before. Before I knew I was moving, I slowly hopped from one rock to the other, careful to make sure I wouldn’t slip. I rushed to the water bending down, only to touch the sweet spring where the current rushed through. It made me thirsty, feeling cold, cool enough to refresh my senses; I could feel the breeze coming through, as I bent to drink from the spring. The breeze felt wonderful as it blowed my hair back, making it fly, as if it were a flag. I felt free, relaxed and most of all satisfied. My body, no longer aching, relaxed from the noises and from my freedom. I lay back on the rock, only to fall asleep to the longing, and glorified day. Free, free, is what I felt…
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