Forrest floor

The smell of decaying leaves;

Like death and rebirth swirling around its wet turf

Acorns falling and birds calling, the sound of the river rushing and the leaves rustling

Nature in all of its multifaceted glory; the sun shines through pockets of trees and I walk along a story-book bridge

I think of times when I was just a kid. Where did my imagination go where was it hid

I walk further; head down with a quasi frown

Then I turn a bend and I see it- a leaf hanging from an invisible thread

Two ducks bobbing their heads

A tree has fallen and made a makeshift fall; and then I remember I’m still a kid after all