The sun spilled golden light over the quiet meadow, dew glistening like scattered diamonds.
A lone butterfly wove between wildflowers, its wings a stained-glass window of blue and gold.
The wind hummed through the tall grass, whispering secrets only nature understood.
Barefoot, she stepped forward, feeling the earth pulse beneath her skin.
The scent of lavender curled in the air, sweet and heavy with summer’s breath.
A stream murmured over smooth stones, reflecting the endless sky above.
She knelt, tracing ripples with her fingertips, watching them dance away.
A robin’s song lifted into the hush of the afternoon, a melody of fleeting joy.
She closed her eyes, the world folding around her like a dream.
For a moment, time bent, wrapped in the quiet embrace of beauty.
Then, a voice called—distant, familiar—pulling her back.
Reluctantly, she rose, carrying the memory like a pressed flower in her palm.
The butterfly flitted past once more, a final farewell painted in color.
She smiled, stepping into the world beyond the meadow’s edge.
The sun followed, golden and eternal.
