A Perfect Place

January 18, 2012
By EmilyA BRONZE, Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania
EmilyA BRONZE, Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

It’s a cool autumn day, trees blowing and leaves falling like rain drops. As I walk down the trail the sun invites me to continue down the trail. The leaves are bright and colorful. I hear a noise that sounds like a rain storm. I decide to go investigate the sound. I take a few steps and notice that the noise I hear is actually a waterfall. I start to get closer and realize that there’s an old abandoned barn near the waterfall. I begin to get exhausted and chose to take a short break. While I am sitting, I examine the scenery that surrounds me.
The leaves on the trees were so bright; they have to be the brightest, most colorful leaves I have ever seen. The trees begin to sway back and forth dropping off leaves one by one. I take a look at the crystal clear water in the stream. The water reflected the trees, making it look like the trees were actually in the silver depths. I am looking down as I see a fish swim through the water, it looks as if the water is actually the sky and the fish is a bird flying in between the trees. The white, rough, flowing water runs down the stream in front of me. The crystal clear water rushes by me like it is in a hurry to get somewhere. It is going so fast in front of me. I don’t put my feet in the water, as tempting as it is, because I’m afraid the quick moving water will steal the shoes right off my feet.
The rock I am sitting on is one of the many rocks that line the outside of the stream. They are lying here sharp and rugged like they could reach out and stab someone in the side any moment. I begin to stand up and look to my left where I realize the barn is. I walk closer to it and see that this barn must have been a few years from the last time someone has ever made contact with this place. On the one side of the old rickety barn is a red wheel. The other side is just a plain side of the barn. The siding of the barn looks like pieces will soon be falling off. The roof looks the same, it looks as if someone could just tap it and it will begin to cave in. Even if a wind was strong enough the whole barn could more than likely fall to pieces.
I am now rested up enough and am able to continue walking once again. I make my way up the hill and begin to exit the woods. The leaves crunch, twigs snap, and the occasional rock will slip from underneath my feet as I walk down the trail. I am finally at the end of the trail, about to leave the woods. I turn and say goodbye to the place that had welcomed me this afternoon.

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