It’s incongruous, the panic of people at large and the absolute assurance of nature in all her glory. 200 metres into the trail, the city fades off and there’s nothing but dry browns and fresh greens of an Indian summer.
I walked a while until I came to a rocky patch a little off the trail. While bright, the sun was not hot so I lay down on the rock and watched the kites riding the thermals against the moon.
And right there, the world was perfect and I was a butterfly basking in the sun.
pleated stories 
I wish the writer was in Delhi talking about a track only butterflies know of 🙂
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🙂
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Your poetry will help us through these strange times…
Love.
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So strange isn’t it, how we experience a slice of life that is sometimes quite separate from any general experience… as though we were living in parallel somehow. I find it sometimes very welcome and sometimes very isolating. But i too have enjoyed some warm, basking moments of my own this week x
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