16 June 2012
I can barely contain my excitement as i carefully step from tree root to tree root, trying not to slip on the muddy slope, or get blossoms from the dense trees in my hair, or stub another toe. I fail at all these things, but barely notice i race pass the ferns and bushes that are both the lock and key to my beautiful home. I just have to brush away one last green plant before i slash in to the water. The trek to get here has made me tired, so i bend down and drank some of the beautiful fresh water. I dont stay for long though, as soon as i am hydrated i rush across the water to the one place the sun gets through the conopy. My spot. In my place. I lie down on some moss with my feet dangling in the crisply cool spring water. There is only one though can process before i fall into a peaceful dream that can only take place in a place as beautiful as this: I am home.
The Spring In Springtime • Opuss № I