Wind

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 20, 2019

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Submitted: August 20, 2019

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I don't know what you would call this weather..... there is always one day as its starting to get close to summer, when the air is more quiet. The skye is clear and the crickets outside seem louder as the sun rises. If you sit quietly for a moment and pay attention to the wind, listening as it rustles through the trees, you can feel the warmth in it, even as is cools your skin. 

I would often go quiet and breathe in deeply on these days, despite being a buoyant and loud child. Sometimes I would fantasize about being invisible so I could sit in the grass and avoid doing tasks. An air of excitment in me would arise at the thought of leaving the classroom, as my distain for my teacher became more aparent, my senseless warden souring such a pleasant day. As a child these days were one of many spent with excitement.... as you grow older the excitment wears off a little, as if the years that went by desensitized you to the beauty of life. But these days bring you back to that feeling, the feeling of being a child, so filled with life and wrapped in an aroama of senses. The scent of butter and breads fill your nose, the low chatter of people and cars fill the spaces of your ears and a feeling of safety and warmth fill your chest as you ponder what the day will bring. I often wake up hoping it will be one of these days....


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