Aimless Walking

I kept walking around yesterday. I realized I was suffering from social anxiety, and I wanted to find a quiet place to go for a walk at sunset this evening, without confronting too many people.

I don't mind people and their company, but I prefer to go to a place with more nature than people!

It really depends on the weather, and I know it's going to be nice for the next few days, so some places might be really busy. For example, the Floriade flower show is starting next Sunday, which means the weather in this country is about to change.

You can walk around the lake and have fun while trying to get rid of weird thoughts.

I am trying to reach all of you through my blog. I often try to reach out to as many Steemians as possible by writing down my thoughts and feelings through my memoirs.

The beautiful trees and plants on both sides of this street, with branches laden with attractive and different types of flowers, along with the benches to sit on, attract people's attention.

There is a continuous stream of people roaming around here in the morning and evening. We get to see all kinds of people here, and whenever we meet someone we know among them, the fun of the walk doubles. Today I did not meet anyone, but often I do meet someone.

The rustling of the dry leaves under my steps brought my attention back to the people from whom I had run away to reach here.

Then I remembered the one who likes these dry leaves very much. Once she had brought a lot of leaves. She used to say that she would stitch them and make a book out of them and would write the story of both of us in that book.

Seeing me talking to the leaves like this, the sun also came out from behind the hill, as if it wanted to be a witness to this moment. I raised my eyes and looked towards the sun and felt the warmth of the sun on my face 2 inches below my eyes, as if it had touched me and was saying, Why did you stop? Keep talking.

Your touch was like the soft winter sun. Between the comfort of the sunshine falling on my face and the restlessness of being so close to you yet miles away, I told the leaves everything that I could never express in words.

As I was expressing my thoughts to the leaves, their color was also changing from yellow to red. The light lines on them were becoming deeper in front of my eyes. The evening was also turning into night, so I got up and came back home.

It is the beginning of September, and it is still quite cold. I feel to save their roots, the trees are drawing whatever moisture is left inside them, and the leaves have left these dry trees, as they do not get moisture from them.

Watching these trees reminds me of those people who slowly become lonely at the fag end of life while saving their remaining moisture inside. I feel that today I am becoming too emotional, so I will stop here.

Beneficiary @hindwhale