Every night, it never changes, I come back home on the same path, always the same ending to the journey...
I am not sure how I find myself there every time. I just know I have arrived when I am surrounded by the wild trees. The golden leaves rustle gently in the soft warm breeze, never having time to drift to the forest floor. The trees do not appear to move forward in time, holding onto the yellow and orange foliage no matter how many times I visit. The sun shines low in a soft blue sky and clouds never darken it. The climate washes me with comfort and security. The weather worn cabin on the edge of the clearing, appears to watch me, following me with its windowed eyes as I walk slowly around in the tall flaxen grasses. I feel there is no one there but myself and the lone building that watches over me. Time is still as I am there enjoying the solitude, then I start to walk up the hill into the forested glen, the first step always bringing me back to my pillow, with my blanket snuggled up to my neck. I sigh at the lost opportunity to stay just a little longer.
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