My favourite holiday

 When we were younger , we went to this meadow . It was a forest once . Long time ago . Now , It is a grassy ridge . Beautiful lush green grass in every direction , except the south . A thin line of trees guarded the meadow , jealously , like its own personal secret . You had to cross the clump of trees to reach the ridge . The trees huddled together , blotting out the sun , and looking angrily at us intruders . The wind whispered ” Go back , you fools .”

Then , abruptly , the crunch of the leaves underfoot , gave way to soft velvety dawn of the luxuriant grass . The shade gave way to brilliant sun , and the birds chirped happily , winging it in the blue sky . It was like an impossible dream .
We sat on the ridge top, and had sandwiches , coffee from the flask . Mostly , we just sat and stared at the breathtaking beauty around . There was not much to speak out there . You just drank it all in . Hungrily . A road ran some distance away , making occasional noise when some vehicle passed by .
The silence and the green and the sun were so healing and therapeutic .
It stayed inside us , long after the holiday was over . In the bustle of the day , going around a crowded city , doing endless , meaningless chores , somewhere , in our hearts , a patch of emerald earth , and a fragment of azure sky with happy birds remained . Like a tiny , secret refuge from the chaos of life .