It seemed to begin beneath a magnificent old tree, where water slipped forward in silence around its roots. Petals lined the banks in quiet bloom, a colorful incarnation of the land’s untouched beauty.
Further on, the forest deepened. Cliffs rose, solemn and tall, cupping the river in their embrace. Broad lily leaves drifted across the surface, untroubled. Light filtered in from above, casting shifting patterns through branches and leaves. The interplay of shadows and reflections danced across the cliffs and water, as if this world moved in quiet rhythm.
She walked without rush. Her steps were soft and deliberate, her bare feet pressing into damp earth and soft grass. She liked it that way, feeling the land directly, closer to what she trusted.
When she reaches the arch of stone stretching over the river, she paused as the wind changed, lifting strands of her hair. Ahead, the waterfall began. She stood there for a moment, watching the cascade from above, before following a path that wound gently down.
At the end, she found it: a small lake fed by the fall, ringed in red lotus blooms that swayed gently on the surface. She stepped into the water and closed her eyes, the sun resting on her face.
For a while, she simply was. No past to revisit. No future to anticipate. Just the cool of the water, the warmth of the light, and the soft sound of falling.
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