The Other Side of the Garden #WriteAPageADay

I see a brown bird sitting on the branch of the mango tree. I can hear its beautiful tune...something I had never heard before. I remember the tale of the nightingale. Is it the nightingale?

I get mesmerized by its haunting tune and stand there for a long time only to find it flying away. I can see it flying over the trees, and I run after it. Where is it going? The question arises, but I don't stop. I see it stops on a wooden gate I had never seen before. When was it made? It's my garden, and I am unaware of the gate's existence. The gate opens with a slight creak and leads me to the other side.

I can see the bird sitting on a log just before me, looking at me and singing in its beautiful tune. Does it want to say something? I sit next to it on the log. It does not fly or stop. The breeze blows, slightly caressing my hair. The leaves of the trees make a beautiful hustling sound, almost synchronizing with the bird's tune. I start humming to its tune, too, my eyes closed.

I open my eyes to find a deer looking at us. It starts hopping in a rhythm as if dancing to our tune. The wildflowers all around sway in the pleasant wind. Their bright hues sparkle in the sunlight. I forget where I am and how long I am there. I go with the flow, humming with the little bird on the other side of the garden.

This blog post is a part of #WriteAPageADay from Blogchatter