She is barefooted as she lightly treads from heel to toe in the soft, warm, grass path. She stops for a moment and stares at a fallen tree – originally from the left side of the path, but now lays across it. It left a larger gap in the canopy to let in more sunlight then the smaller ones. She feels a brush of wind that knocks a few dead leaves off the fallen tree. She’s not walking lightly anymore as she hurdle jumps left foot over first, and continues to jog along the path until she reaches a field of lighter color grass that sprawls on over slight hills for a mile, marked only by a large log cabin on the far side of the plain.
Here’s a few more pics that I ran through Waterlogue. They’re pretty much eye candy. Just a heads up the second and third original pics aren’t mine. Can’t remember who took them.