The tiny trail, though surely much longer than I thought it would be, nestled in a cozy town. Snoring softly in winter and brought to life by the yellow in the sun. The way of things.
How lovely it is to go on a walk, alone with your thoughts and the flowers, passing through trees and peppered houses, so that by the end of it, you can smile, genuinely so, when you see people again.
The pleasantness of chit-chatting birds; magpies with bow ties flit into the midst, bouncing off emerald green and mossy limbs. Light changes the colors with each step, reviving red poppies, the remembrance of war heroes, while horses graze beside seemingly forsaken barns. I hop over the muddy patches like the bunnies in the field (yes, the ones with the cotton tails like Peter). Liquid sunshine touches the skin, an unexpected shower trickling down, just enough so that the rainbow can reveal itself in the distance.