The rich, dark earth slowly filters through my fingers as the sun shines warm on my back. This is the place.

I look up slowly. Mystery tempts in the shade ahead, trees towering to the heavens, ferns and moss painting the scene with every color green imaginable. The shadows dance and tiny patches of light paint a picture of glorious solitude and serenity.

It is a woodland story. Full of wild beauty; raw, unfiltered and perfect. It draws me. It makes my heart long for more.

As the grandeur of the scenery starts to sink in, the sounds become more prominent. Water trickles over rocks somewhere nearby, full of life and peace. Birds sing in the distance, dancing in the warmth of the spring sunshine. Squirrels scurry through the treetops while the leaves sway and rustle. The wind breathes softly through it all, creating a beautiful symphony.

There is a path ahead, barely visible. I can feel it more than I can see it. It’s pulling me in, begging me to explore, to go deeper.

I take a few steps with my bare feet. Hard, sun baked earth gives way to the damp, dark soil, the incredibly soft covering of the forest that I love so much.

I am home at last.