The place felt like a scene from Cabin in the Woods. So quiet. Snow spread out in every direction. The trees rose tall around me, dark trunks stretching into the sky, the kind that made me feel small. Small not in a bad way, but in the way only humongous trees could make me feel, reminding me that I was just passing through and they had been there for far longer. The air was cold enough to bite the skin, yet the sunlight slipped through the branches and made the snow sparkle.
The sound of my steps on the frozen ground was the only thing I heard until a gust of wind moved through the pines and the leaves rubbed softly against each other. In front of me there was a wooden cabin, half hidden by trees, its roof heavy with old snow, the logs simple and strong, holding on through the seasons. It looked tired but strong, standing alone in the middle of wilderness. I walked slowly, listening to the crunch under my boots.
Everything felt sharper. The smell of pine, the crispness of the air, the way sunlight fell on the snow. A sudden gust of wind swept through the pines, and the soft rustle of their needles was the only sound besides my own footsteps. The wind carried a raw, earthy smell, the sharp aroma of pine and damp soil, buried deep beneath the snow. Earlier some locals had told me that bears sometimes came into this area. The warning sharpened my senses, and I felt the weight of the forest pressing in on me. For a moment, all the noise and chaos of my city life, the constant stream of news, the deadlines, the endless traffic, faded completely. And in that silence it didn’t feel like emptiness at all, but a kind of fullness only the wild can give 🍂
0 Comments