I continue up the hill, and a stunning view of the forest lies before me but I don’t stop. I continue down the other side of the hill and the trail forks. I choose the less beaten path. I like running trails that most other people avoid, they’re more peaceful. There’s something intangible about hearing nothing but the forest. I find a small horse trail and turn again, but soon I am lost.
I continue on slowly, trying to get my bearings in the newly overgrown forest, but give up. I stop to catch my breath briefly, and hear a stream bubbling nearby. I step off the trail and soon find myself in a little clearing by a small pond. There is tall grass obscuring the world from view, and I squint my eyes against the sunlight glinting off the water.
She’s sitting against a tree, her back to me, but I recognize her immediatly. I choose a tree close to hers, and she turns and gives me a simple smile. I look out over the small pond, and we begin to talk again. As naturally as if she had never left, my muse had returned.