Vast stretches of snow welcome me. I walk across them - sometimes carefully, other times with carefree abandon.
The sun shines so bright that I feel the burn on my hands. The combination of snow and sun is comforting - if too hot, just lie in the snow, if too cold just stand with arms stretched facing the sun.
The snow passes. The scenery becomes fairy-tale picturesque. It's a scene straight out of childhood dreams. There is a lush green sloping land. There are mountains all around - some snow covered pristine peaks and others green with tall pines. There's a distant sound of the stream that runs into the divide between two slopes. The sky is clear except for a few stray clouds forming curious shapes (which can engage the imaginary mind for hours). There are small flowers growing wildly, out of free-will.
Footprints guide me as I walk along... and the breeze brings with it the stories of people who live and breathe here. I stand still for a moment and shut my eyes. I see healthy horses galloping in the freedom, a wooden hut housing a fulfilled family, and I see a kid lying on the grass with sunlight playing on his face.
I don't want to move. I want to capture this feeling. I want to return to this feeling in the dark hours.
I open my eyes. I see a face. A smile. Confident eyes. And a conversation begins with a fellow-traveler who is equally sunk in the surroundings. We click. We talk and laugh, violating protocols of propriety and appropriateness. We immerse ourselves into each other and the beauty around. General rules of conduct and acceptable principles of communication have no place in a place gushing with natural instincts. We take in the beauty of the wild nature. And walk along.