Psithurism: the sound of wind

The mere entrance of the park brings a huge smile on her face. Elated by the cool winds she dances across the garden full of flowers and seats herself on the grass. Putting down her things to do, she smiles to herself, because nothing at all feels better than the wind itself. She swings her arms and walks for a while, looking up to the warm sun in sight. 

The squirrels race in front of her, as if she was the judge. Small birds chirp loud, as if to make her listen to them. The clouds seem to look like cotton candy, challenging her to come up and grab them. She walks over to the swings and seats herself. Shutting her eyes, she inhales, "What a beautiful scene", she heaves a sigh. She remains seated on the swings till the sun sets, that's when she's forced to leave the park as it's time for bed. 

Putting herself to sleep, she thinks to herself, "I'll forever be the girl, who excites over green grass and nature's behaviour".