Tranquillity. The sound of a bee going from flower to flower in a distance, a butterfly’s wings flapping. Silence.
She crossed her legs, lifted her hands. Fastened her eyes on a point in the wilderness. She let go.
The world beyond the present faded. Thoughts swept through her mind like leaves in the wind, like sticks in a river. Moving on to somewhere else. She observed them as they floated by.
The moment became her, she became the moment.
She saw things clearly here, from outside. She could see everything as they really where, freed from obsession, from her self.
She lifted above her problems, her desires. The grass underneath her left her body. She floated above the ground.
A scream. A bird far up in the sky, a predator searching the land. She felt the bird. The bird was her. She was the bird.
A squirrel jumping from tree to tree. Going up on the high branches, looking around for nuts out of reach for most other creatures, looking for a mate now the mating season was back once again. She felt the squirrel. The squirrel was her, she was the squirrel. She was the trees, the flies, the mushrooms.
She was the bird.
She circled. In a spiral she descended down towards the ground, towards the tree.
A shadow fell over the branches. The squirrel looked up. A scream came from its little mouth.
It was too late.
The eagle flew home towards the nest where her children was waiting.
Rachel popped back to where she was floating in the forest. Her body lowered towards the ground as she returned to her self, to the forest, to her life. She got up on her feet. She too had children to feed.
Nature kept spinning its wheel.