The Harmful Hand of Nature
On the Earth’s bare soil, I am taking in my surroundings. The complete darkness fills me with weariness. Cautiously, making no loud noises, I sit deathly still. The soft breeze in the rustling trees surrounds me. I’m blending into the background as if merging with the blades of grass. I wait here patiently but with alertness.
As the sun’s fingertips slowly arise across the morning sky, I easefully watch the woods awaken. Now that my eyes now clearly meet with the land, birds are singing, critters are crawling, and bugs are arising. My nostrils grasp the refreshing smell of moisture and moss that this place conveys. The rays beating on my slightly exposed skin warms me.
As I am waiting attentively a sound appears to my left. I spot the feature, and its true gentleness mesmerizes me.
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