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Out of the shadow of the bush, animal tracks appeared. Sunlight streamed down upon them. All the trees and shrubs that strayed across their path were bathed in pale gold. The luscious green grass filled my nostrils with a honeyed scent of rich summer. Watered and fed, the undergrowth was thriving and was a home for many different insects. The air was pleasantly packed with the humming of the woods.
The grass cleared a path as the tracks continued forward. Wild mushrooms were growing healthily at the centre of every footprint. Robins were dancing to a lively tune. A sunflower turned its head to face the sun, engaging it in conversation. The many strands of grass quivered momentarily as my boot brushed them gently.
Reaching a particularly muddy bit of path the prints became messier and harder to make out. A dry, yellowing leaf fluttered delicately onto the tracks. Its cracked veins had many holes in them. A minute snail gradually began chewing away at what was left of the auburn leaf. It crunched and cracked as the snail devoured it, as if clinging on to the last few moments of summer.
Then, the tracks disappeared into a hole under a thick tree. Last winter, as I walked along this path, holding my dad’s hand and a mug of hot chocolate to keep me warm, the tree roots were not discernible as they were covered in ankle deep snow. But now, winter was starting all over again and the tree would be covered in snow once more.
The tracks came out at the other end, hiding behind a bush in the sunlit clearing. As the sun beat down upon my neck, I gazed up into the cloudless sky and decided that while summer was still here, I might as well enjoy the warmth while it lasted.
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