*Wordcount: 406 words.
At the bottom of a hill, behind a lone tree, sits a small, wooden bench. The bench faces out towards a slowly meandering body of water. It is wide, and flows slowly as if it were just trying to take in the sights. Beyond the water, flowers dot the landscape, speckles of colour in a sea of green. Fat bees buzz from flower to flower, contentedly collecting their pollen. Overhead, birds flit to and fro around the valley, chirping as they go. A single bird lands in the lone tree, singing a lilting tune.
Under the tree, sitting on the bench, is a man,
He isn’t doing much in particular, just following in his surrounding’s footsteps. That is to say, he is being. The tree casts its cool shade down upon him, although the warmth of the golden sun seeping over the landscape would not be unwelcome. Beside him rests his sacerdotal hat, and a jacket he had been wearing. He yawns, and looks out at the water.
Waterfowl float along with the current, ducks and geese bobbing buoyantly on their way. They regard him with languid disinterest, and move on.
Fish swim below the surface of the water, making their presence known with occasional leaping from the water, as if to catch the buzzing insects above them or simply to show off their splendorous scales as they shine in the sun’s light.
The man rubs his eyes and takes a hearty breath of warm summer air.
The air smells sweet and earthy, the aromas of the various flowers filling the valley. If he tried hard enough, he would be able to identify the fresh smells as they billow by. Alas, his focus is not quite so focused.
A slight breeze fills the air, and the grass and the trees sway with it.
Between the blades of grass crawl life, large and small alike. A small brown beetle scurries over the dirt, and a small spider scurries after it. Throughout the sea of green, around the flowers and over the bushes, similar scenes of life play out. In the corner of the valley a snake slithers softly to the sanctity of its den, while a furred rodent flees at its sight.
The valley is awash with life.
At the bottom of a hill, behind a lone tree, sits a small, wooden bench. On the bench, sits a man.
And absolutely nothing happened, and it was heaven.