[ WP ] First-person account of somebody taking a walk that reminds them of the beauty of life

It ’ s a beautiful, chill evening. A fine layer of mist hangs in the air, it clutches to everything it finds: a fine film on the surface of the greyed cobbles, fat droplets on the orange leaves that litter the vivid green grass; streams of water cascading down the vertical trunks of the trees that line this winding path. The branches of the trees arch over, barely touching. They ’ re casting long purple shadows over the ground. And there I am, walking amongst it. Life is dying all around me, in every brown leaf and curled plant - and it ’ s so alive. 
 
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