The blue-shimmering, green grass in the pale moonlight, in the meadow in a forest clearing, the cool, quiet wind blows across the grass, gently to and fro.
Almost like the gentle rocking of a sweet child at play, still blindly trusting life, delicate, not yet shaken by the storms of humanity.
Then comes the golden sun, shining through the forest trees, the birds sing, and the tart, spicy scent of resin wafts through the woods. Lost pine cones are found, and the first leaves are already falling from the mighty trees. Staying on the path, yet so often straying from it.
The dream of the forest continues; it never ends. And I, cheerful and wiser, I hope, continue on my way, perhaps a little way into the promising forest, like a child, sheltered in the rocking and the wind, and not just speeding along.
The wonderful colors and facets of the forest leave me with a feeling, not only of expansive hope, but also of love for nature, as it reveals itself so generously and gracefully on a lush green expanse. –
January 2026