You sit under pine trees, the breeze cooling your face and damp blades of grass crushed under your feet. The book you ambitiously carried to read outdoors sits forgotten next to you because everything else is so much more appealing – the clouds, the birds, the flowers.
You have to make sure to breathe in all that fresh air so your lungs can hang onto it. Clear blue skies stretch for miles above you, making you wonder how people get any work done around here. It’s all so distracting; the beauty of everything. The rather persistent chirping of crickets that would normally annoy you feels like a pleasant background score. The tea you would have gulped down in the city takes on a magical quality here: it soothes and refreshes and makes you pause.
You doze off, wake up and are still very much on schedule. There’s no hurry to get anywhere, do anything, be anyone. You stare at ants briskly moving in line. How ‘city’ of them.