I’m surrounded by wildflowers.
The rainbow blooms waving in the wind as though they are swaying to their own personal orchestra, encouraging me to free myself from my heavy pack, to let my body and my soul open up in the midst of their dance.
I catch the scent of the pine needles that blanket the neighboring forest floor and catch the urge to run.
To sprint as fast as my legs, weary from the climb, will carry me.
I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to look silly in the midst of my audience of chirping birds and whistling marmots, and then give in.
I open my lungs and stretch my legs as far as my hips will swing, and I run.
I run fast and I run far.
Through the field of dancing flowers, letting each bloom touch my arms and legs and face; sometimes they caress and sometimes they strike, stinging my skin with the whip of their touch.
The sun penetrates the skin on my face and the hair on my head. I let it soak in and feel my soul burst with warmth.
The leaves of the flowers tangle my hair, tugging a bit as I glide through their field, not stopping, not slowing. Just embracing the feeling of freedom.