Picnic day

As she rested her head on the foot of the mother tree, she stared at the upside-down blue sea with floating feathery lumps of cotton being swayed lazily by its gentle wave. The melody of zephyr is so sweet, that every soul in the spot hums to its whistle.

The buzz of the bees, the fluttering of the leaves, the whispering of the grass to the whinnying of local woodpeckers on the trees. Ayana found herself endlessly devoted to the tranquility of nature.

Her long slender legs basked under the sun, and her torso was covered under the blanket of the tree's canvas scattered shadow. She didn't miss the chance to inhale that purifying smell of wet soil underneath the tablecloth she brought along to rest on.

If only, someone else too was present here to share this beautiful experience with her.