What I see around me.
The wind is casting its heavy breeze and smothering the hot summer air, while my legs stick to the damp grass leaving a tickling sensation behind. The sun is beaming down, touching my skin slightly, warming my coffee and kissing the garden gently as its crops ripen. There are no noises now, but the blustering of the wind and the chirping of brave birds who dare to challenge its speed and sway.
What I feel.
is still but for the motion of my hand, as I glide my pen along the page of my
journal. I cannot see what is being written for the sun is too bright in my
eyes, and I must trust my mind to jot down precisely what I am thinking. This in
itself is a vulnerable task, as it restricts me from proofreading and altering
my mistakes. It stops me from hiding from my errors which I so often do, and it
opens my thoughts to the truth.
What I think.
I have taken in
the scene around me and heard no noises but for the wind. I have used it to
center my thoughts and transcribe them blindly into my journal. I have finally
learned to stop hiding from my own vulnerability, and have made myself visible
to nature. I can share my true thoughts with the page and allow it to be inked
but I will not share them with you.