Walking Home
The road lays like a tarmac of ribbon with two white lines running down the center relatively unbroken, as the silvery mist rises in smokey swirls, dissipating into the summer breeze. The sun falls behind the horizon with its faint rays of white light penetrating through the thin fog. The immense billowing trees stand rooted beside the road, with their overhanging branches lying low. To an extent creating an arching curvature over our lone walker, with the illumination of the sun blending with the green leaves it creates a dazzling milky light.
Into the center point we see a man whom presumably due to the day’s bustle seems drained, and yet the thought that he is heading home keeps him walking along the deserted road.
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