Her nature

Posted on by thefeministwriterwhogoesmeh

Stones. Lots of stones. They reminded her of the metaphorical ones in her head, ever-present to burden. She stuck her snout out of the window* and was greeted by a gust of wind, inhibiting her breathing, but exhilarating at the same time. It felt like those burdens were melting away with the moody weather. She took in the huge cluster of greenery with awe. 

They stopped by a miniature waterfall that looked welcoming. The sun seemingly bore all of its sweltering energy on her, and made her beg for relief. She tentatively climbed around the slippery rocks, not yet willing to become wet. Eventually, she stepped into the surrounding pool and was so overcome by the feeling of flowing water around her feet that she rushed into the waterfall, nothing compared to that of the Niagara or larger ones, but just as picturesque.

The water fell into her hair in uneven drops and cooled her overheated mind. Her vision became blurry as water fell on her glasses. She took them off and looked for the source of water, then gave up as she closed her eyes and merely felt the sensation of dripping water on her face. The rest of the stones were washed away with the cold water as she felt alive for the first time in what seemed like forever. Drenched in forgiveness and relief, she danced for joy. 

Her nature intermingled with nature’s nature, and she became one with her surroundings.

* ‘To stick one’s snout out of one’s window’ is an expression that I borrowed from one of my friends. She’s prone to coming up with creative things like that, hehe.

33 thoughts on “Her nature”

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