For the friends who still read...
Once upon a time there was a young woman walking through the woods. She was on a clearly marked path that had sun spots lighting it through the trees. It was a clear, cool, and breezy day. The birds sang, the trees made soothing rustling sounds with their leaves, and the sun warmed her face from time to time. She knew exactly the destination where she would find herself when she reached the end of the path. It was going to be a warm, inviting cottage in a clearing. The cottage was at the edge of the mountains just up from the shore of a nearby tiny sea. The guide who told her to follow this path described the scene and she was looking forward to it while she enjoyed her journey. There were many exciting new things in these woods. Animals as those she had never encountered, songs from birds and fairies she had never heard, lights from the stars at night she had never seen, and all of this was lovely.
One day after, a warm stroll down the path led her to a rendez vous with an old friend who needed a helping hand along part of the journey. She was more than happy to oblige and offer assistance. As night set in, and her friend was leaning to her for strength, a flaming orange apple fell from a tree right in the middle of the path. The young woman saw it, was enticed, but knew she must look after her friend to ensure her well being through the night. An hour later, it began to rain, lightly before a moderate downpour began. The young woman created a shelter to ensure her friend's safety and stood guard outside. She noticed that the glimmering golden apple had rolled down the trail from earlier as they had made it downhill a ways. The Apple sparked up into a shimmering knight as it came to the aide of a fallen vagabond. This poor vagabond was injured as he had stumbled earlier coming down the hilly path and needed an attentive nurse to ensure his health through the night.
The young woman watched from a distance the car given to the once jovial invalid. The golden apple turned knight was seriously concerned for this traveler. He attended to him until the man was stable and could rest peaceful through the night. It was at this point, with their friends safe for the night, that he noticed her. They shared a light conversation, and a few laughs. The night was over too quickly and they returned to trek down their separate paths.
However. Beyond this encounter, the young woman was swept off course. She lost the path to the cottage. She was swept into the uncharted, unblazed path leading into the unknown. Her destiny that she had been so certain of from the days of her youth was now a myth. The map she had held was now ash when she pulled it from its leather tube. She encountered this golden knight a few more times in the wild woods, scrambling for her way. Each time, his presence created a clearing in the untamed foliage and the stars and moon shone down clearly and the fireflies flickered amidst black trees. There was peace in these nights. Then when morning came, she would trek onward, blazing her own trail, making a new path all her own through the woods.
That dream of the ideal cottage on the hill by the sea and the mountains she held in her mind. it is held there with the hope she will one day find it at the end of these woods or find her way back to the path that leads there so easily. Until then, she blazes forward, alone, weapons in hand to make it through each challenging day and night. Sometimes that fire returns to comfort her for a night or two. Many nights she spends conserving her own warmth within her cloak.
Is it worth it to continue on this fighting path with only a tiny glimmer of possibly finding the final reward and the hope of more warm nights with the man who brings peace and tranquility to the untamable days?
What happens when the rescue team shows up? Offers the young woman a rope ladder out, attached to a helicopter, to lift her out of this tangled mess? Never to blaze her own way through the treacherous trees and a few times find solace in the blazing arms of the golden apple knight, but to be lifted above it all and swept along for another ride.
Final thoughts?
Why is the rum gone. It burns so nicely. It is so warm.
One day after, a warm stroll down the path led her to a rendez vous with an old friend who needed a helping hand along part of the journey. She was more than happy to oblige and offer assistance. As night set in, and her friend was leaning to her for strength, a flaming orange apple fell from a tree right in the middle of the path. The young woman saw it, was enticed, but knew she must look after her friend to ensure her well being through the night. An hour later, it began to rain, lightly before a moderate downpour began. The young woman created a shelter to ensure her friend's safety and stood guard outside. She noticed that the glimmering golden apple had rolled down the trail from earlier as they had made it downhill a ways. The Apple sparked up into a shimmering knight as it came to the aide of a fallen vagabond. This poor vagabond was injured as he had stumbled earlier coming down the hilly path and needed an attentive nurse to ensure his health through the night.
The young woman watched from a distance the car given to the once jovial invalid. The golden apple turned knight was seriously concerned for this traveler. He attended to him until the man was stable and could rest peaceful through the night. It was at this point, with their friends safe for the night, that he noticed her. They shared a light conversation, and a few laughs. The night was over too quickly and they returned to trek down their separate paths.
However. Beyond this encounter, the young woman was swept off course. She lost the path to the cottage. She was swept into the uncharted, unblazed path leading into the unknown. Her destiny that she had been so certain of from the days of her youth was now a myth. The map she had held was now ash when she pulled it from its leather tube. She encountered this golden knight a few more times in the wild woods, scrambling for her way. Each time, his presence created a clearing in the untamed foliage and the stars and moon shone down clearly and the fireflies flickered amidst black trees. There was peace in these nights. Then when morning came, she would trek onward, blazing her own trail, making a new path all her own through the woods.
That dream of the ideal cottage on the hill by the sea and the mountains she held in her mind. it is held there with the hope she will one day find it at the end of these woods or find her way back to the path that leads there so easily. Until then, she blazes forward, alone, weapons in hand to make it through each challenging day and night. Sometimes that fire returns to comfort her for a night or two. Many nights she spends conserving her own warmth within her cloak.
Is it worth it to continue on this fighting path with only a tiny glimmer of possibly finding the final reward and the hope of more warm nights with the man who brings peace and tranquility to the untamable days?
What happens when the rescue team shows up? Offers the young woman a rope ladder out, attached to a helicopter, to lift her out of this tangled mess? Never to blaze her own way through the treacherous trees and a few times find solace in the blazing arms of the golden apple knight, but to be lifted above it all and swept along for another ride.
Final thoughts?
Why is the rum gone. It burns so nicely. It is so warm.