The wind billows through the trees. The scent of pine thick in the air. Creating a sense of tranquility within this quiet place. Though not silent, with the birds chirping, the leaves rustling, and the sound of a nearby river flowing endlessly. This place can only be described as serene.

Of course nothing stays like this. As the world moves. The coarseness of the weather makes all things fall no matter how strong it is. A storm rolls in over the horizon striking the trees and plants. Making this place loud with cracks of thunder. Whilst the howling wind crashes against the rocks, beating them down to nothing. And not one thing can change this phenomenon called nature.

Eventually, the monsoon passes and the season changes. Leaves fall and this place becomes cold, birds migrate and other animals hibernate. Now the smell of pine is masked by the frozen touch of snow, frigid winds blow past, and a harsh rain of hail falls and hits this wooded area and it changes again. Slowly, it changes even more than before into something different. Where the great boulders change to little stones and the trees bend to create a new path through this place or perhaps, no path at all. Maybe a clearing is made whilst another is covered; in this not so little wooded area.

Then the seasons pass by once again and only rain falls. Ivy creeps it’s way up the trees whilst their leaves grow back and some buds rise anew. This place had become vibrant and green once again. The smell of pine that was covered by the frost of the snow has returned. And the animals that were silent have started to make noise once again.

Though with this passage of the seasons and a few decades or even millennia. The places that could be called familiar have changed. Then there are things such as the rocks that once held the burrows of foxes with their grand physique that crushed any of those that walked by, these wondrous works of nature were reduced to mere pebbles and chunks of earth that were once sturdily in place took the places that those stones once held. Another such thing is the little buds that had sprouted into large canopies that cover the entirety of this little wooded area. But time continues on as though nothing had happened in the first place. Because the march of time can’t be stopped and the world just has to follow it.