These boots are made for walking
Today I took a long walk on the park in the sun. After I got into the grounds properly, the only sounds I could hear were the wind rustling in the trees, the crunch of my boots on the flint cobbles among the dust (when I wasn't walking on grass), the whump of my backpack jouncing on my shoulders, and the cries of the birds: mostly wood pigeons, tits and crows.
The wind made the grasses dance, and as they were an interesting mixture of pale green new grass, emerald green mature grass, and some soft gold/cream dried grass, the pastures seemed to glint silver in the sunlight.
The wind was fresh, the sun was warm and all was pretty damn right with the world. I only saw about 10 people the whole time until I came around in sight of the house.
I feel better as soon as I get onto the park. If I'm stressed, I feel less stressed. If I'm homesick it trails away. It's impossible to be bored, although logically the parkland looks scarcely different this year than it did last year, or last week, but every time I go there, it's all new.
And there were some early blackberries to eat too.
The wind made the grasses dance, and as they were an interesting mixture of pale green new grass, emerald green mature grass, and some soft gold/cream dried grass, the pastures seemed to glint silver in the sunlight.
The wind was fresh, the sun was warm and all was pretty damn right with the world. I only saw about 10 people the whole time until I came around in sight of the house.
I feel better as soon as I get onto the park. If I'm stressed, I feel less stressed. If I'm homesick it trails away. It's impossible to be bored, although logically the parkland looks scarcely different this year than it did last year, or last week, but every time I go there, it's all new.
And there were some early blackberries to eat too.