At last the path was clearly defined in front of her.
For too long she’d been trampling through the growth, her legs whipped by spindle branches and her heart full of uncertainty. She had picked up the occasional rough path, but these were often intertwined with several others, leaving her hovering in indecision.
She had tried climbing trees, gaining glimpses of understanding and momentary ideas on her direction, but once her feet hit the forest floor again the fog settled around her and she wandered some more.
It had been a particularly persistent bird call startling her awake one morning that had changed her wanderings.
As she listened for the call again, the forest filled with sound. The trickle of a nearby stream, the rustling of small animals all around and the distant hum of a bees nest stirred her senses. The sweet scent of spring flowers tickled at her nose as the breeze caressed her skin. As if all time had stopped, she spent an entire day in stillness, finally awake.
Now she looked at her feet firmly planted on the path and the steep incline before her. She pulled the straps of her rucksack tight and, with a hopeful heart, began the climb.
Photo credit: Mike Vor
Word Count: 202 words
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Al Forbes. The idea is to write a story with the photo as a prompt in 200 words or less.
Thanks for reading x