This is the stuff of storybooks and fairy tales. This is so perfect it can hardly be believed. The emerald mountains in the distance capped and surrounded by low-lying clouds and mist. In front of me lush greenery and purple flowers. Between here and the hills, a sea of gigantic Albizia trees. A gentle breeze cuts through the humidity, birds sing in every direction and white cockatoos dart back and forth braying like donkeys. The smell is sweet perfection.
I was invited to Lyon Arboretum by the devastatingly handsome arborist and instructed to seek him out for a tour. But now that I’m here I realize more than anything I just need to sit still. In this moment I want to be found or completely left alone. I don’t want to do any seeking.
Everything is right and good and I remember that I won’t be alone forever. So I will enjoy this while I can.