The trail looks far too overgrown. Somewhere, somehow you must have gone off of the path you meant to tread. Each step falls softly onto moss and creepers.
Birds call all around.
The last wildflowers of summer co-exist with fern and mushrooms of every description. There is an invigorating, clean scent in the air. As you debate the need to turn about and seek the fork in the trail that will take you back to your intended course you continue walking forward, past a little creek cascading in tiny, bubbling waterfalls down the hillside. Perhaps it is the mist from the falling water, or the rainbow quivering in it. Perhaps it is something subtle about the landscape itself, but you become disorientated for a moment and forget your intention.