Gradually but steadily the afternoon gave way to evening and twilight soon to darkness. This scenario was far more delicate and interesting we engulfed in a sheet or blanket of pitch darkness surrounded by trees of different shapes and sizes pretending to be ghosts or shadowy features and moving from side to side and the cold misty winds blew, then that croaking and screeching sound of the grasshoppers, crickets and needless to mention the frogs and the toads… all echo phonically orchestrated a divine music pulsating the weirdness of the woods and there we were clasping hands together and feeling rather breathing all of this.
Same as little sound or here as to say pecking and croaking of different organisms made the silence more silent, in the similar manner as the afternoon gave way to darkness on its lap we then realized it was time to go back home as the darkness shrouded the woods under its thick quilt, and the jet black clutches of wilderness fastened its clutches more strongly around us and the cold wind touching our souls and whispering some magical words into our ears, we looked for a possible source of light, in my friends backpack, he luckily got hold on a match box hurriedly we felt the longish or the most longest match stick just with the touch of our fingers and measuring every millimeter, with insurmountable effort we lit it and wasted no time in picking up a long thin twig to light it up and then to find out our weary way.
to be continued…
Read Part 1 Here
Read Part 2 Here
Read Part 3 Here