forest walk

forest walk

Growing up, beauty was my mother’s soft skin and sky blue eyes, her Italian talc that came in a dark blue container and smelled of flowers. It was the field behind the fence that separated my childhood backyard from a school’s playground. It was a dove’s peach coloured feathers. A bird’s song. It was walking through a forest with a stream that ran between. It was the new blossoms in spring, the sunshine in summer as well as the warm rain and the bright coloured leaves in Fall. The idea has not changed very much over time. Except now, it includes things like the music of laughter, the joy of family, children and pets. And the love of blood orange sunsets.

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