Yesterday I walked on a new path, eager to explore my local area more. My route was a mystery. I reveled in the excitement of new sights to see. As I walked further, I entered a wooded area. I reached a hill; the gradient was steep, but I was unbothered. I was strolling, leisurely, observing the flora and fauna around me.
On one part of the path, there is garlic at both sides. The smell of wild garlic slightly bites the nose. Yet, I find it delightful. It reminds me of being told what wild garlic looked like by my grandmother a few years ago. We were by the river in a historic town. I had never heard of wild garlic. I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know of the plant as I later saw it numerous times.
The smell of wild garlic in the air was faint. Birds chirped in the background. The buzz of a bee could be heard. A train going over a bridge nearby made a noise as it passed.
On my way up the hill, I stopped. I got a glance of the water nearby. Calm, peaceful, serene. I continued walking, approaching the end of the woodland. I strolled further, with the sun beating down from the sky, hills in the background, cows in a field, and cars passing on the road. I saw a butterfly and a robin. I smiled.