Morning breath
It was early in the morning when the first rays of sunshine dispelled the stillness of the night and bathed the horizon in a soft, golden light.
The dew was still heavy on the blades of grass and every touch of bare feet left a shimmering imprint.
The air was fresh and clear, filled with the scent of meadow flowers and the gentle buzzing of bees slowly awakening.
The path led past the old fruit trees, their branches bending heavily from the abundance of fruit.
One cherry tree in particular caught the eye, its deep red fruit glistening in the morning light as if to make a silent promise: the first taste of the day, fresh and full of life.
The old wooden ladder that was so often used was already leaning against its trunk.
The tree was a silent witness to many summer mornings when picking cherries was a familiar ritual.
Hands gripped the rough rungs of the ladder while the dew glistened under bare feet.
The steps creaked slightly, but the morning silence remained undisturbed.
The soft, loose fabric of the light dress moved gently in the wind with every step, while her skin felt the coolness of the morning.
At the top of the ladder, amidst the dense foliage, the moment seemed almost timeless.
The first rays of sunlight broke through the leaves, drawing bright patterns on her skin and filling the air with a golden glow.
The first cherries were picked with a slight twitch of the fingers.
They felt cool, almost refreshing, still slightly damp from the night.
The lips touched the fruit and the sweet juice filled the mouth – it was as if the morning itself was tasting, as if the promise of a new day lay in every cherry.
His gaze wandered over the vast landscape, where the mist was disappearing into the meadows and the day was slowly unfolding.
It was quiet, only the distant call of a bird broke the peaceful silence.
Remaining on the ladder, her hand wrapped around the branch of the tree, it felt as if this moment belonged only to her and the awakening world.
The soft morning breeze played with her hair, letting the light dress flow around her body as the light grew brighter with each passing moment.
The body was still warm from sleep, but the cool morning air evoked a feeling of freshness and new beginnings.
It was a moment to be captured – the cherries, the stillness, the gentle touch of the wind on her skin.
Slowly more fruit was picked, each one a little treat, a piece of the summer morning spreading across the fields.
Time passed, but here, between the branches and the grass underfoot, it seemed meaningless.
Every breath was filled with the lightness of the morning, with the freedom that the early day brought with it.
With one last look at the tree, its branches swaying in the gentle breeze, she climbed down the ladder.
The morning was still young, the day lay ahead of her – but this moment, these cherries and the quiet awakening of nature would remain in her memory, like a first, tender greeting of summer that would never fade.
