As I walk into the greenhouse, an immediate flash of sense flows over me like walking into a cloud. The cool, damp air. The light breeze against my skin, the smell of nature. The quiet swipes of blades slicing through the air, and the crackle of the misters coming to life. I taste Iron, and a musty but lightly green taste, of what lies beyond. The sun shines through in tiny squares, a maze like cutting the sun into thousands of pieces, and tossing them about the room.
The dirt cracks under my feet, loose branches and leaves swipe at my legs as though begging attention. The climate has now reached my core, I can feel the air move around me, the taste, the odors. It is damp to the tongue, yet dry to the eyes, so temperate as to just touch the skin with a quiet cooling effect.
Walking. I can make out the soil now, the hard pungent smells of wood, water and soil combining into a bath of sweet darkness, yearning for roots to explore it's treasures.
More later :-0
The dirt cracks under my feet, loose branches and leaves swipe at my legs as though begging attention. The climate has now reached my core, I can feel the air move around me, the taste, the odors. It is damp to the tongue, yet dry to the eyes, so temperate as to just touch the skin with a quiet cooling effect.
Walking. I can make out the soil now, the hard pungent smells of wood, water and soil combining into a bath of sweet darkness, yearning for roots to explore it's treasures.
More later :-0
