Max shares his extension writing.

By Anna Garthwaite | Posted: Sunday May 15, 2016

I walk through the mass of trees, breathing in the sweet perfume of pine. Golden light shines through the canopy of leaves, creating dappled spots on the forest floor. A kaleidoscope. I sit down on a patch of mossy earth and lean back against a soft pine. A bush of beautiful, droopy ferns gently strokes my face, and I smile. Somewhere above me, a nest of birds sit high in a hideaway pocket of leaves, twittering happily as a bright butterfly floats through the air in front of me. Lazily, I pick a large dandelion clock and blow, for a second, the air is studded with fluffy white specks before the gentle breeze brushes them aside. Nearby, a gurgling brook weaves through the trees, it's surface frothing with diamonds, finishing this picturesque image. The drowsy aroma of the forest dulls my thoughts and I feel myself drifting off.