At its best.
It felt so wonderful.
Communing with nature.
The breeze was so relaxing.
It was very cold.
It made the body alive.
The view though compensated for being cold.
Seeing the trees, different sizes, different kinds.
The creek at the middle of the forest.
The pond where the turkey at times used to drink.
The tree squirrel which run very fast.
And climbed a tree as fast as the monkey.
Seating quietly on this spot.
Not making any movement.
Lest the animals would be scared off.
One hour. Two hours. Three hours.
Waiting for the turkey to go drink in the pond.
But no such luck.
No turkey appeared.
They appear delicate.
But they are all survivors.