Where Heaven Meets Earth

Somewhere, there is a tiny world, where hillsides are painted green and stained with spice. Hills, which look like giant sleeping turtles.  The lush grass is spread around the hills like a blanket. It is soft like a lamb's wool and rich with hidden wonders. Priceless treasures like the earthworms who fertilize the field, to the rare emerald swallowtails. In the caves of the hummock, lie resting spirits keeping the valley safe. Their mere humble presence keeps the place humming with warmth and peace.

The mountainside dips down into a stream, the elixir of life cascading down. The glistening water is refreshing and gently flows around the whole area. The flow of the water creates a cleansing ritual, renewing the land and ridding the bad. It covers the unique underwater world of seafood and protects it. The water paints the image of the sky, capturing all the right shades and shapes. Pond lilies surround it like wings of an angel, each flower a different hue from the rest.

The tropical sun smiles upon the meadow and its exotic flowers, filling them with heat. Not too hot, but not to cold. The willows with their long summer icicles sway with the colours of the wind. With each clump o leaves that look like a waterfall, it creates a safe haven for animals seeking shelter or shade. The sweet aroma of flowers create a heavenly bliss. No, this is not Shangri-La. It is called Pratumia, found where heaven meets Earth.

A doe grazes through the field with her fawn. Her grace is a crystal jewel in the grass. Snow white rabbits prance around the lilies by the lake. Life here is simple, endless water and boundless food. But Pratumia isn't simply a meadow. Every night, something peculiar happens. The moon lights up the sky with a calming glow, a wake up call. The hills move. The Nysagi are small creatures, the size of a thumb, with pointy green heads, and eyes that reach into their souls. Their arms are petite and nimble and their stout legs are made of dirt. They lead an easy life; as they wake up each night, they patch up the bald areas, refilling the scenery with plantation. Their whispers are carried into the night.

The Elfra are bigger creatures with a head full of thick locks. With their eyes closed, it is difficult to find his face, but during the night, his features stand out. They are old souls, they have seen the beginning and will live to see the end. Their head gives shelter to many different critters, which are fast sleep at the moment. They move slowly, their rough brown bodies are bulky and silently creak as they move. Their thousand arms reach towards the moon, casting shadows on the ground. They sky is dark but natural lanterns light it up, leading a path for the shifting world.

The sleeping slumbers are slowly woken up by the sweet songs of the nightingale. The Nysagi and the Elfra are put to rest, lulled by the cooing of a dove and the golden melody of life.