TROUÉE D’ARENBERG, France | I am completely enchanted by the forest in autumn. The colours of orange, red and yellow splash the landscape like a splatter of paint from an artist’s pallet. The breeze is cool and the scent of unearthed soil lingers in the air from the wild bores before us.
If you look carefully, entwined between the trees’ ancient roots lay an entirely different land of its own; the kind of place that folklore is inspired from. Mushrooms smaller than leaves sprout from the plush moss carpet and dew droplets glisten in the sun like diamonds. It awakens a creativity inside of me that has been asleep and undisturbed.
It is magical. Am I too old to day-dream?