The city had always been a whirlwind. A blur of concrete and..

The city had always been a whirlwind. A blur of concrete and steel, with footsteps pounding the pavement like a clock racing ahead. I was just one of many, engulfed by the rush of life, my heart trapped in the anxious rhythm that accompanied it. The pressure to keep pace, to find moments to breathe between deadlines and fleeting glances, felt overwhelming. Life demanded more than I could offer, and the hollow ache in my chest became my constant. Even the night, once a refuge, throbbed with the unending noise of sirens, engines, and distant chatter.

But then something broke—some delicate thread within me. And just like that, I walked away from it all.

I found myself in the woods, in a place where time seemed to pause its frantic march. My new home was simple, just a modest cabin nestled beneath a canopy of trees that stretched their limbs toward the sky, cradling the world in an ancient, gentle embrace. Here, the anxiety that once gnawed at my spirit began to loosen its hold, drifting away like dried leaves in an autumn breeze.

The wind here sings, a slow, soft melody that weaves through the branches and brushes against my skin. It doesn’t rush me; it whispers, inviting me to listen rather than race against it. The frantic pulse of the city is a distant memory. Now, my soundtrack is the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig under a wandering animal’s feet. There’s no rush, no feeling of lagging behind. Here, I am finally free to just be.

Sunlight filters through the trees, dappled and golden, warming my skin in a way that feels almost like a shared secret. I’ve learned to soak it in, to let it fill me in the way I once longed for during fleeting moments in the city. There, the sun was just another thing slipping through my fingers, too quick to savor. Now, it’s mine. The days unfold more slowly here, or maybe I’m the one who has finally figured out how to truly live within them. Time still flows, but it no longer eludes me.