Mountains high and sharp.
the wind blows and bends over the trees. you lay down on what feels like a ginormous green pillow with your arms spread and eyes closed. the stong and powerful wind crashes and blows my hair. soft, silk like strands blow to the rythm of the wind. then the land is peaceful nothing moves. wild animals run through the forests jumping ofer fallen, decaying trees. horses graze in lush over flowing grass. peaceful cardnals fly gracefully over you chirping sweet songs to you while you rest. you open your eyes to see a pasture swaying in harmony with the wind. you are proud of this wonderful place, wild and wonderful. the beautiful place you call....... home