The gravel crunched beneath my feet. It was a comforting sound, an everyday sound. I’d worn my newest walking shoes; they kept the mud from spattering on my gown.
It had just ceased to rain. You could smell the clean, damp air misting over the chimneys that dotted the village. I kept my eyes on the road. I didn’t want to step in any puddles; I’d already ruined quite a few gowns that way.
The road turned into a muddy path. I could feel the excitement building up inside me. I had been walking this same path everyday for as long as I could remember, yet the destination never failed to take my breath away.
I saw it all at once- the path sloped down into the beginning of a wood- a gurgling stream racing down towards the valley on my right, banked by patches of green. It was surrounded by pale gold and auburn, the flaming colours of autumn that mirrored the brown and red of the trees. There was a gentle wind flowing over the tops of the trees and sweeping the leaves strewn on the ground. The sun was low on the horizon, speckling the scene with amber.
It was beautiful. Hauntingly beautiful.
“I’ll never forget this sight.” I thought.
“Not even when I die”.
I forgot the dream the minute I woke up.
I had a test the next day and a mountain of work to do. I would be moving into a new room in the hostel with my best friend Nam. So, for the next few nights, I slept dreamlessly, completely tuckered out either by studying or by the sheer physical work involved in moving house. The only thing that lingered was a faint feeling of absolute solitude.