The Journey

I am on a dirt road, its sand crunching as I put one foot down after another. I can see the road twisting through the grassy hills, going through several herds of sheep. After two hours and ten minutes of brisk walking, there was a shadowy forest in front of me. The trees get thicker the further in you go, and the light from the sun comes in dimly.

The path I am walking on now has moss growing on it, almost covering its’ dirt and rocks. Plants with little green leaves crowd around the trees’ trunks and in the distance a bird is chirping, a rhythm of every five seconds.

I am watching my forward steps now, for the many wild mushrooms grew haphazardly on the forest floor. Then, however, on a patch of clovers, there is a key. Bending down, I saw the beautiful little pattern on it; it was an old fashioned key. Picking it up, I put it in my front pocket. The bird was still chirping, the darkness not leaving.

I walked down the path again, and noticed that the bird had stopped chirping. Either that or I had gone to far away to hear its cry. Yet now I saw something that distracted me completely. A cup, white with a little red design wrapping around the rim, was in the middle of the road. Picking it up, I turned it over in my hands. It was the design of a tea cup, with a handle. Putting it with the key, I heard a source of water.

I walked toward the sound of running and bubbling water, noticing dimly that I was still following the faint path. Turning around a corner, I reached a big pond that had a little waterfall running into it. The water was clear blue and looked drinkable. I leaned forward and saw little minnows darting back and forth in their watery realm. I took the cup out and filled it to the brim. No one wants to die of thirst.

A little while later, the light became stronger, and up the path was a small, rickety fence. Its’ paint, probably once a bright red, was peeling. There was no door in the fence. However, it only went the length of the path. I could tell that I could easily climb over it, it was three feet high, but I went around it instead.

I noticed a slight slant in the ground, so I must be going uphill. My climb was steep and breath-taking. More light came streaming down through the tree’s high branches. Then, as if though there was a wall preventing it from going any further, the forest stopped. I walked the five steps to the top, and saw something I never expected: a view. Green, scraggly trees sticking out of fields of wheat. The blue sky looked painted; this was peace.