The Secret Trail

January 11, 2012
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The crisp, chill air stirs the colorful leaves around my feet; winter is on its way again. I’ve treaded this trail countless times and noted new things just as often. Unforgiving winter clears out some animals while others seem to come alive. However, it’s the actual forest itself that speaks the loudest.

It’s October and the leaves twirl and spin gracefully, like a beautiful ballet, as they descend to the forest floor. Strong winds pick up and sweep the dancing leaves away, at the same times tossing and pulling my hair, blinding me briefly. Trudging forward, I listen to the creaks of the trees and the sound of the squirrels scurrying above.

As I come to the end of the path I spot a speckled fawn grazing with its mother, and golden-blazing eyes peer at me from the tree tops. Not many people venture out this far to a small space of land, innocent and untouched, apart from the rest of the world; that’s why it’s beautiful. I can smell the pine, and dry fall leaves, and the slight touch of honeysuckle; I’m almost to the end of my trail.

I glance around; it’s time to leave. The howling of wolves and sounds of crisp fall leaves crunching under my feet echo as I walk and the light starts to fade from the tree tops. The exit to the trail is secluded from my view by, what will be in spring, blossoming honeysuckle and raspberry bushes. I turn and note every detail, it will be awhile before I get to return. Too soon, I turn and disappear behind the honeysuckle.





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