The Woods

The Woods

When I was younger, I often visited the woods that surrounded my home. My friends and I went down there many times for it was our own personal playground. I look back on this frequently and remember the good times we shared.
In order to get down to the arrangement of paths, you had to make your way through the opening of trees and branches. Because it was very steep, there was one single branch above this opening that we held onto in order not to slip. Once you made it through, there were trails going all through the clearing of woods. In front of you was a rope swing tied to the largest branch of the largest tree. On the bottom of this rope was a large knot with a loop at the end made for your foot. Just below this rope swing was a hill, and at the bottom of this hill was a creek. Because of the steep hill below it, you soared high over everything that surrounded you. The wind flew all around you bringing the scents of dirt, dead leaves, and twigs. In order to make it down to the creek, you used the rope swing to hold onto until you were safely at the bottom. Directly beside the creek was a large tree who’s roots grew down to the top of a large rock that laid in the stream of water. They almost made a stair like pattern, making it easy to climb down onto the slippery boulder. From there, you could step onto each rock laying in the creek. It made such a perfect path that you felt as if you were walking on the shallow path of water. At the end of the creek was a large pool of dirty, muddy water. It was infested with rotten tires and my brother’s old bicycle. This was something I never challenged myself or anyone else to get close to. Back on land, there was an old tree that had been dead on the ground for as long as I could remember. I used to walk up and down it, thinking of everything possible. On past that was a big tree right in the middle of everything. There were old wooden planks nailed to it like a ladder, but I could never seem to...

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