It's spring and you've lost your way somehow in a forest. You walk through. What do you see, what do you feel, what are you thinking about? Portray the images of the forest scene.

A loud flutter set me running, until I realized it was only a small flock of birds returning from their yearly southern jaunt. They were reasonably excited as they gathered branches for their soon-to-be-filled nests. I admired their dedication and excitement as they flitted amongst the budding green of the treetops. They knew what to do. That was probably what I admired most. All my life I had wondered what I was supposed to be doing. But they knew. It was instinct, true, but that is what guided them north as the earth melted and the sun brought renewed warmth and life upon the forest I now stood.

I looked around…the trail that I had been following had been mysteriously replaced by a fierce undergrowth that threatened to tear at me if I tried to make my way back. It was evident that I couldn't go back the way I came. Perhaps I was waiting for instinct to take over and miraculously lead me home, and so, I sat down.

I just sat and waited and sat and waited some more, occasionally swatting a fly. Finally, I decided that I was done watching the grass grow and began to look for a spring because I was thirsty. I moved west…towards the setting sun. It had grown late while I had waited for instinct to overwhelm my senses and guide me home, like the migrating birds. The fading light upon the trees cast obscure shadows on the ground. The twittering birds had all begun to nestle in their little dwellings, preparing for nightfall.

The shrubbery that had prevented my return had mysteriously shrank into the night, leaving me a clear path home. I watched as flowers slowly closed their faces as Sol turned away from them, and as the night flowers began to bloom in the eerie glow of Luna. I stopped at a singing spring, music to my parched lips, to drink the sweet water. Slowly, I made my way home, listening to the hum of the crickets and the hoots of the owls. Perhaps it was instinct that guided me home safely…