It's contentment.
It’s where you’ll have the best sleep of your life.
There really is nothing like being perfectly warm and listening to the
soft pitter-patter of rain drops on canvas.
The smell of hot coffee and dew mingled together with the promise of an
exciting day. The soft pawing of hooves passing by your head when a
downpour forces you back to the tent for a small reprieve. It’s not being angry when you wake up at 5am because the birds
are performing a sarcophony of noise outside. It’s a simple hair and bare face. It’s a sharp breeze
that pulls the nearest loved one into a warm embrace.
It’s an escape and a return.
That feeling of being grounded. Of
belonging. It’s reading the clouds, watching rippling meadow grass,
listening to waves tumble over shingle, telling the time by the length
of your shadow.
It’s not knowing what time it is. Not caring what time it is. It is us stripped back.
It is where living happens.
It is where living happens.
No comments