Beauty of nature.....

 Beauty of nature..... 

The hills breathed in layers that morning, each ridge softer than the last, as if the forest were practicing how to disappear.

Mara stood at the edge where vines tangled like old thoughts, their leaves still wet with night.Beauty of nature Somewhere below, a river whispered a name she almost remembered. She had come to leave something here—an ache, a promise, maybe both—but the green refused to be a grave. It was too alive, too insistent.

A breeze moved through the canopy, and the leaves answered in a thousand small voices. Birds stitched the air with brief notes. The forest did not ask who she was or why she’d arrived; it only offered itself, vast and patient.

She stepped forward. The path was barely a suggestion, a darker green among greens, but it held. With every step, the world behind her thinned—roads, clocks, the sharp edges of wanting—until there was only the rise and fall of the land and the quiet work of light.

When the sun climbed higher, mist lifted from the valleys like a curtain. The hills revealed themselves one by one, not to impress, but to remind her: nothing here hurried, and nothing was truly lost. Things only changed their shape.

By the time she turned back, she carried less than she’d brought. The forest kept the rest, folding it into leaf and root, into the long memory of green.