EMILY
The calmness and quietude of the forest were priceless, the soft breeze brushing past us as we sat on blankets spread on the forest ground, our backs against a tree.
“Look at this one,” he let out, showing me a photograph he had just taken. “It's so good, isn't it?”
I drew closer to him and saw that the photograph was indeed good. It was one of three little birds with long red tails, chirping and swirling around their nest above.
“Wow,” my open palm covered my mouth as I grinned, “this is one hell of a moment to capture.”
“Yeah, right,” Jonathan agreed, laying back against the tree, taking in the beauty of the picture. “I will show Mum this, let her know she's not the only one in the family who takes good photos.”
Then and there, my worried ran back to my mind as chickens do
