The whisper of the fairy forest

The morning began gently: the air was warm but fresh, and the morning mist lifted like a curtain, letting out a narrow path. I entered the forest, and the first thing that caught my attention was an unusual rhythm: the footsteps of birds, the rustle of leaves, and the soft sighs of trees that seemed alive and attentive.

The trees here were tall, but not threatening; their bark was warm to the touch, and sparks of light fell from somewhere above, as if the sun had decided to play with the branches. Unfamiliar flowers bloomed on the sides of the path—small, with transparent petals—and at each of my approaches they tinkled softly, as if with joy. The air was fragrant: resin, fresh grass, and the light sweetness of unknown berries.

At the edge of the forest, I was met by the inhabitants of the forest. The first one, a fox cub with amber eyes, deftly ran across the path and stopped for a moment, as if checking whether I was worthy of continuing the path. Behind him appeared small creatures that looked like white moles, but with wings. They greeted me with welcome hints: they placed a pattern of cones and leaves on the ground and pointed in the direction of an old oak tree.

Near the oak tree, the forest revealed its secret. Quiet spring water gushed among the roots, and pictures appeared on the mirrored surface, as if the river reflected the sky, and also the memories of the forest. I saw excerpts: summer thunderstorms, flying moths, children's laughter when one day someone forgot the way home. These images were without guilt and without sadness — just part of a large living canvas.

I continued along the path, which was sprinkled with gold dust — it seemed that these were the fruits of some kind of glowing tree. The further he walked, the brighter the sounds became: crickets played a concert right above his head, and a stream whispered in the distance. Here, time seemed soft: every second stretched out, giving a feeling of complete presence.

By the time I returned to the edge of the forest, the sun had already risen higher, and the fabulous images were gradually dissipating. But the inner silence and the feeling that the world has changed a little bit has not melted away - it has become kinder and more attentive. I left the trail, keeping in mind the whisper of the forest and the quiet certainty: you can return at any moment, you just have to open your eyes again and follow the light.