I can’t say when my travels began. There are so many paths within a single trip. Sometimes I find myself at the starting point, but years have passed and zip codes have changed, still, I am at the same starting point.

On this occasion, I am in a forest. It is dark from heavy foliaged trees and steep terrain. The earth is soft and covered with slippery leaves and loose stones. My footing is not sure except for my heels sinking into the mud, creating a foothold not so easily released. I reach for low branches as they offer a hand and together I am able to pull myself further into the forest, higher into the clouds that hang just above me.

What is on the other side of the clouds? I imagine the sun, or the moon, depending on the duration of this hike I am on. I have slipped a few times and the mud clings to my knees and palms of my hands. The air is heavy and damp and cool, but my efforts have put sweat on my skin and given me a great thirst. This is only the beginning of a trek with no known end.

My keeper had left the gate open.

Sending a silent thank you to your keeper ...Very nice Golden, very nice...

Nice felt like I was there

thats very realish takes you away from where you are very nice

More please,

. . .

tommy boy

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