I went for a walk in the forest recently, I wasn't alone, I'm not confident to walk alone in the forest, but there wasn't much talking; we just walked and let the sounds of nature settle upon us, breathed the fresh, pine-scented, air and enjoyed the dappled sunlight upon our bodies as we went.
It's quite green at the moment and grasses spread everywhere, almost covering the forest floor. The bed of green was interspersed by thick layers of pine needles in places and was dotted with the most beautiful, but small, flowers. I don't know what they are called, but they are a beautiful colour and looked lovely contrasted against the rich green of the grass. They made me smile, their delicate petals, beautiful star-shape and that bright spot of yellow in the centre...but they had a certain tenacity about them too, they poked up here and there, refusing to hide themselves behind the mass of grass. They were cute.
As we walked, I'd look over at the man walking beside me now and then. He moved like one accustomed to walking in the forest, surefooted but quiet as he went, each footfall perfectly placed; he always looked relaxed, comfortable and like he belonged there. I watched him lead the way and smiled to myself when I noticed he wasn't stepping on those flowers; I didn't say anything, but felt a nice connection with him, this man who felt that small act of kindness towards nature was worth his time and effort.
It's just like him to do such a thing and I love him for it; he is so manly and yet gentle enough of nature to think of those tiny flowers. He feels that humanity's footprint upon this plant is too heavy, that we should take more care with it and that it's the small things we do that, if done enough, will make a difference; this man is so wonderful, and I feel blessed to be the girl whom he treats in such gentle ways also.
We walked on in silence, that rugged, capable, caring and special man and I found myself trying to copy him, to move like him; I probably looked silly. I also thought about how the small things we do often, those tiny acts of kindness done often, are never misplaced and always worthwhile.
We took a break and sat on an outcropping of rock; I assume there was some geological name for it that the man beside me would know, and I leaned over on him a little, a small hint. His arm reached around me and I dropped my head to his shoulder. Yes, it's the small things in life that come to mean so much, like the closeness I feel with this man. I was right where I needed to be.
Becca 💗
What a beautiful observation @becca-mac, I love that he sidestepped the flowers. The ending to your post was just perfect, what a special moment between the two of you 🦋
If we don't see past the big things and acknowledge the small ones we aren't living our best lives, or so I believe.
Becca 💗
I'm all about the small things, they are the ones that mean the most. 🦋