It seems the tree is hugging the forest.
There is fun in the air inside the forest.
The spring forest is like a theater stage.
The smell of warm tomato soup escapes the chimney and smoke spreads quietly.
Songs flow from my heart, and the space around me has grown into a green forest.
The lemon morning glow and the milky foam clouds are dancing together.
Slowly and slowly, I feel that the forest and I are connected.
The leaves say their goodbyes.
Tomorrow morning, I will go to the grandfather tree and say hello.
I’m listening to the moon and stars how they talk.
The stars light up the sky like diamonds.
"There was a garden where they used to go; a walled-in place with rose bushes and giant cauliflowers." (Mrs. Dalloway)
"She was wearing pink gauze—was that possible? She seemed, anyhow, all light, glowing, like some bird or air ball that has flown in, attached itself for a moment to a bramble..." (Mrs. Dalloway)
“The atmosphere of silence and darkness, fear in the evening.” (Mrs. Dalloway)
“There he stood beside Miss Parry’s chair, perfectly rigid, talking about wild flowers.” (Mrs. Dalloway)
