Down a mossy path and around a bend I sit surrounded by dense pines. The house-though less then 100 years away- is invisible, and the only evidence of the deserted road is a small concrete tunnel peaking through the dormant underbrush. I sit upon a bed of pine needles covering damp black soil with hints of the creek that runs through said concrete tunnel can just barely be seen, though the babbling tributary is far more evident then the water it feeds.

Rain drops fall creating music all around me, the tree I sit under so kindly offers me shelter as the drops become more frequent then less as the warm southern wind blows the clouds on revealing the sun, allowing it to shine on me, the trees, and the page which I am currently writing on. The birds fly all around me, their songs fill the stillness with spring time joy. Most songs I have heard before but regardless of how common they may be I still smile as the greenery is filled with the joyous songs of spring.

The more I sit here the more I feel as though I have been spirited away to some fantasy land, I await a lost prince to ride up the path on his noble steed or for a traveling wizard to inquire the time should he stumble upon me. In this forest there seems to be in outside world, but as I dream of knights and kings I feel a longing grow for home. A home just beyond the bend and up the mossy path, the home filled with love and happiness, and while I know I could just walk up the path and returned to my time I chose to sit back and watch the world go by as I wait for a wizard to inquire about the time.

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