Entering the spacious woodland, I suck in a breath of the bitter air, lungs expanding and contracting against the deathly silence of darkness. Breathing in through every way possible with my lungs, heart and brain, I trample forwards into the dark abyss of woodland. A desolate dark valley of woodland lay before me covered in snowflakes, of both beautiful and bright. It is this valley of woodland where I go to rest, for serenity that flows as cool river waters. The rustling of branches, a melody without rhythm, music without sound echo throughout the oak trees, their sound bouncing gracefully from tree to tree. The great arms of aged oak forestry, sit delicately upon their towering trunks, clothed in the verdant green hues of nature’s unleashed dreams. Kinship runs along the lines of their spacious roots, a relationship with the flora and fauna where squirrels run feral and birds appear stirred
The moon, pale as a winters night looms over me with its watchful eye with what could only be seen as intense curiosity as my journey takes me far and wide. Towering oaks of with a sense of aged history guard the woods with their overlooking gaze. A sense of kinship with the flora encompasses the rustling of branches against one another.
In
grove of wonders
Towering oaks overlook over me with their watchful gaze as I continue on my journey through the wonderland of dark matter
As my feet, wrapped tight in winter boots trample over brambles of thick ivory
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