Journey Through Childhood

I went on a journey today:

Back to a place I often visited as a child.

Down a long and dusty road there is a place that has always captured my amazement.

Magic seemed to hang in the air. A small creek winds in and out of these mysterious woods. It seemed like so long ago since I had last seen my previous playground. The creek has dried up in several areas, which were now merely pits full of dead leaves. It's amazing how your imagination takes flight as a child. I remember the countless summers I used to spend playing in those woods. Anxious for the magic that awaited me and never knowing what adventure I would come across next.

My path wandered back to a part of the creek I had long since forgotten. Lying across the narrow creek was a long and now rotting log, which formed a sort of den; the den to a giant snapping turtle. As I began to walk on the log and lay atop it as I used to, I was shocked to feel it giving out beneath my feet.

It seems I had forgotten how many years had passed and how many pounds gained since my last visit. Leaning over the creek to peak at my old friend I was once again caught in amazement.Perched in the back of the den were a large rock, and a stick poking slightly out of the water.

Laughter seemed to spill out naturally as I recalled the numerous hours I spent lying on that log, making sure to be so still, and waiting for the slightest movement of that turtle.

A movement that would never come.

My attention was then drawn to the tree that sat next to the den. It was a large tree...nearly dead now, and right in the center of it was an inviting hole. Peaking in my memory took the wheel once again as I remembered all the "treasures" I had once hidden there. Hoping that one-day, such a day as this one, I would once again journey back to my secret hideout and re-discover my hidden treasure.

Many people must have passed through these woods for nothing but a small porcelain teacup lay there anxiously.


As I continued on I passed through another area I was always certain was magical.

Leaping back and forth from one side of the creek to the next, I almost felt like a child once again.

The cattails I formerly used to make fairy wands no longer seemed to hold the powers they used to. In taking one in my hand, I felt nothing.

But how could this be?

I certainly had not dreamed all the enchanting spells I had once cast with cattails just like this one.

Everything in this land seemed so abandon, so alone.

Nothing seemed the same anymore, and sadness began to pour through my veins.

How could it be that a place that was always so intriguing and inviting to me as a child, suddenly seemed so dead.

Desperately I resorted to my last hope.

Behind an old camper, parked solemnly in the woods was a place that no matter what, held magic like no other.

As I rounded the last corner of the camper; I saw it.

Still as large, green, and magical as I had remembered it to be.

The leaves were still attached, almost as if they were meant to be there by nature.

The sticks were still wound as tight as they were, first bound.

It was my very own fairy house.

Built for the fairies that used to swarm the skies and flowers of my playground.

Amongst all the things that were different,the dried leaves, rotting log, empty tree, non-existing turtle, and powerless cattails; it still looked the same.

Beneath all that was different, there was something that still held its magic strongly.

My fairy house, as lovely as ever surrounded by wild buttercups, sat alone.

Alone in a field of sorrow.

Blissfully, I ventured away from my former play area.

When I finally reached the last bit of wood, I sat for a moment.

Looking back at what used to be.

And somehow, amongst all the dead trees and the brown leaves that covered my memory.

I found it...

Just as I had remembered.

My magical place:

With green fields and woods, flowers covering every hillside.

The constant melody of the creek's current,the magical dust from the cattails carried across the wind....

and the beautiful singing of the fairies, lingering in the air.

Adventure seemed to be calling me, as I turned back to approach my childhood playground once again.