Just a way home

I walked the pathway deep into the woods one quiet winters day. The snow fell softly to the waiting ground which lay undisturbed until my boot made itself known. It was so quiet except for the occasional bird or small animal foraging for food. I knew I was alone but felt as if someone was walking right beside me. I looked once in a while knowing I was being foolish. Or was I? Deep into the woods I stopped and rested upon a fallen tree that I’m sure lived well over one hundred years. What stories it could tell. Small children playing hide and seek within view of the wagon train in the meadow just ahead. Lumberjacks sparing it from there killing blows of the ax. So, what made it fall? Lightning perhaps but no scorch marks to be seen. A disease maybe? Or just of old age? I hoped that the cause as I got up and walked deeper into the white birch forest. This was my goal today to find this place I had been to before on winter walks. A magical place where hundreds of trees reached to the heavens standing side by side like wooden soldiers waiting for orders.it was beyond peaceful and quiet here as if time just stood still for a while allowing me to experience what I like to call "the angels rest stop" if I close my eyes I can see hundreds of them standing among the birch trees heads down in prayer also appearing to be waiting for orders. I always leave a part of me there among the tall beautiful trees, apart I guess I was supposed to leave. My walk out of the woods was just a way home......

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