whimsy and wildflowers

The soles of her bare feet push through the cool earth. Each step is taking her closer to her destination. The evening sun is shining down; its warm rays kiss her skin. The heat fills her to her core. She closes her eyes and walks in silence. Stretching out her arms, she caresses the tall grass with her fingertips. Each individual blade slides gently across her palms.


Tilting her head back, she looks up at the sky. She sees the soft white clouds above her. They are in no rush as they lazily float across the sky.


All around her is a calm stillness. Her only company is nature. A delicate monarch dances among the flowers, gracefully floating on the soft breeze. Somewhere in the distant trees a bird sings to the bright setting sun. Scurrying through the grass is a small family of mice, rushing back to their safe home.


No worries here. No intruders. Alone in her field, she trudges onward.


As the sun descends closer to the horizon, she knows that she is nearly there.  A gust of wind comes from behind and tosses her hair all around. She can feel the change, the electric charge in the air. The intensity radiates beneath her feet and up through her fingertips. An angry, dark purple cloud quickly approaches. There is a deep and violent rumbling coming from within.


Slowly at first, the drops start to fall. The first hits her shoulder. She watches as it slowly slides down the length of her arm. One lands on her hand, then her leg, and her nose. The soothing song of the rain is picking up. She smiles to herself, for it is an old and welcomed friend. Her gown gets heavier with the weight of each added drop, but she does not mind. Not today.


Reaching the peak of the last hill, she stops.


The rain is in full force now. Buckets upon buckets of water are pouring from the sky. The clouds weep for her. Furious winds whip through her wet hair. The skirt of her dress is tossed violently in all directions. The elements are filled with rage.


Stretching her arms out as if to hug the clouds, she smiles warmly up at the storm.  They will understand. All is well now. She will be free soon.


Closing her eyes, she lifts one foot forward, and plunges off the cliff.

. . . . .

Yes, I am fine. Writing is a form of release for me. Nothing more.
I simply felt like sharing.

xoxo – Alexis


One thought on “Free

  1. The sentences are so descriptive I was there. A love the rain too.
    The only two things missing are a stout branch and a hero nearby to hear the distresses maiden’s call, so he can run to her rescue pulled her up and then giving her a passionate embrace and they ride off and live happily ever after. If you thought about doing a short novel, not the short, but one that brings the readers along with you for a whole luxurious journey. You have the talent. Love dad.

    Did you read into my comments the pun about the branch and the hero those are the two elements missing it tone a true cliff hange😂


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