The Painted Scene

I traced the direction of the light, and thought about how I was being a part of the nature as a gorgeous painting. As I trod into the shadows from the lushes, something excruciating seems to be frozen...gradually is flowing away. I was melted by the time I seemed to be an empty container filled with the hills and abundant trees. I thought of nothing to fight with anything at all, by which the light tells me nothing but merely shines on me in a slight angle that dangles a somewhat of a quirky oblique line. The colour of green pervades. Thick as well as heavy it seemed, matcha-like of the green algae exuberantly crawling on the surface of the lake and grey stones own its inward power of greenish gush. The egrets standing smoothly and steadily at the coconut palms were taking naps, interfered continuously by the lures of the foods given by the humans. Also, the ducks are especially adept in water, quacking sometimes as they were at war with other ducks for the sake of the foods, and yet one of the ducks were quite bold. In my eyes, that duck was not afraid of the human and might consider the human as other species because it tried to harshly peck whoever had occupied the marshland of theirs. I was intoxicated with such a scenery and was amazed by it. If no human at all, I may wish not to be, but tis truly I may...or may not be myself making such decisions as if losing my consciousness of getting to know such marshland in advance. How I wished to do perhaps was to lose myself in such a painting and never came back to the reality. Again I sought the sunlight, but the light derived from the sun kept changing itself. The painted scene is in change.