The muddy path beside the road

A chilly morning, but the Sun promised me that it would be a pleasant day. I trust Him , so I ventured out. The dew drops still clung on to the green leaves, the blades of grass could still have moistened my calf muscles had I decided to go through the field. But I didn't.
Some red colored flowers were waiting for me down the road . The road black,the flowers red. It didn't seem awkward, though it would have, had a girl worn a red bonnet over a black blouse. But she didn't.
The Moon for some reason had forgotten to retreat back into His den. Why , I don't know. But He hadn't.

For early spring the weather was indeed resplendent ,what with multicolored flowers, green grass, bright sun and no sign or sensation of any heat. My back was warm but it had more to do with the hot water bath than anything else. Soon it will be become warm because of the blood which is flowing so smoothly through my veins. Even he knows that spring is here.

The birds I met on the way were looking quite cheerful. I know this because they were sitting quite casually on the branches, not getting bothered by my presence.

The road was to go on forever but I bade it goodbye when the milestone which read >< 20 met my eyes. It was time to do down the hill and meet some people who lived there and had done so for the last so many years.
When the urban feet of a city dweller touch the soft earth in a village , the brain sends a signal to the hands to spread wide open ; it's natural. After sometime the brain realises that the earth out there is more solid and dependable than it is in the city, where it has been covered with hard black things that we eventually call roads. To see the sun coming out from behind the trees as the whole scenery lit up, was quite a scene. So the muddy path took me into the habitation of humans who lived there and had done so for the last so many years.

The hamlet was indeed quite small. The houses were embedded between green spaces and tall trees. Had it been a city street it would have worn a deserted look. but being in the country side the whole scene looked quite idyllic. On could see the cattle grazing calmly on the hillock and the small shepherd boy nibbling away on his bread quite contentedly . When I went near him he smiled a little and stood up to stand in a posture which signified his shy nature. Soon came other villagers who had no qualms about me wearing a unbranded t-shirt or a worn out jean. Not one of them cared for the dirty shoes I was wearing. After talking with them for some time I felt that we city dwellers had done irreparable damage to their peace of mind by demeaning their simplicity and glorifying our ostentatious duplicity. I decided to walk down a little further and soon encountered a young man , of about my age, who greeted me warmly and indulged me in 5 minutes worth of conversation regarding the village and it's surroundings. I still remember that day when I had curtly refused to give proper directions to a fellow city dweller as I had to get to work early. But when you are out here you no longer feel that hurry is or can be a part of life. Time moves as quickly here as it does out there but then it is the pace which the people set which actually makes the clock tick at leisure.