Writing with the Senses

Whispers of the wind rustle through the trees. The scratching of the branches echo in the breeze and there are periodic thuds as the squirrels chase each other in a playful manner. While the wind whistles through the trees, the leaves crack and clatter when it forces them from the ground around me. The birds are singing their sweet songs and the insects buzz by me.

The cool breeze strokes my arms and carries me back and forth like a pendulum on a grandfather clock. As the wind may chill my body, the sun swoops in with it’s warming touch and sends fire pulsing throughout my skin. Silk caresses my skin and entraps me in a sea of tranquility. I float like a cloud as I’m suspended in the air.

Air flows in and out of my lungs with a freshness that fill me with a cool briskness. The blooms on the trees around me produce a tangy perfume that lingers in my mouth. It’s a beautiful day full of new blooms from the Springtime. There is a sweet scent in the air and when the wind blows, the flowers fill me with a nostalgia of being a child running through the woods.

Tree branches interweave with each other in a tangled, beautiful mess. The wispy clouds block part of the sun from piercing my eyes. Wings flutter across my vision. Butterflies, bees, and birds float above me searching for a flower or branch to land on. The sky is full of wonder and enchantment that’s soft and clear. There’s a glorious infinity out there waiting for me.