Eluna’s P.O.V.
The woods were quiet today—eerily so, like the trees were holding their breath, waiting for me to do something brilliant.
Which, rude.
Because I already was doing something brilliant: crouching in a pile of dead leaves to get the perfect shot of a mushroom. A mushroom. If that wasn’t art, then I don’t know what is.
I shifted a little to the left, adjusting the lens of my trusty Canon, a hand-me-down from a wedding photographer who decided love wasn’t worth capturing anymore (her words, not mine). The light streamed through the canopy above, painting everything gold. I loved this time of day—when even the bark of an old pine tree looked like it had secrets to whisper.
Click.
Another shot. I checked it in the display.
Gorgeous. Moody. Probably symbolic of my entire l
