Walking along a beaten path, tree limbs reached out, blocking most of the sunlight until only partial rays breached the dense canopy. Even the trail gave no comfort from the treacherous terrain. Sweating profusely and exhausted from the trek, a man known by very few, slowed to a stop. Discovering a lush green meadow abounding with flowers and butterflies of all shapes and colors, he decided to find refuge under a shady tree and rest. Laying his backpack against the harsh bark, he was able to lean against it comfortably. As he relaxed, his heart beat gradually slowed and he breathed easy. The tropical landscape before him began to fade into a blur. The familiar essence of the flowers blending into the trees until it reached the resting nomad. Instantly, he was in a different place, a different time.
A slight breeze swept across the broad and spacious land that encircled a pale tangerine colored house. The house was accompanied by a smaller, but none the less, intriguing of a house to the west. Attached to the larger of the two houses was an enormous porch that enclosed a glistening, clear blue pool. An assortment of fruit trees bordered the porch on the north side. This created a strong fragrance of citrus that rivaled the potent smell of the chlorine. The breeze carried the battling aromas skyward. As it mixed it created a new and beautiful sensation that cannot be simply put into words. This extraordinary essence drifted gracefully along the freshly cut grass and passed through the nose of a young boy. These smells, these sights, ingrained in him so deeply they could never be forgotten. Burning in his heart, and fresh in his mind, lingering to be reminisced in the future.
A gentle, yet firm hand rested peacefully on his shoulder. An enchanting source of confidence and reassurance radiated from it. Yet, with a world full of bliss and contentment, something troubled the boy. He yearned for the experience and the hardiness that came with age. He wanted to be like the mature, wrinkled old man he looked up to, behind him. Seeing the troubled young boy, the words of the older and wiser flowed like a continuous stream. It cooled the head and heart of the boy on even the hottest of days. He welcomed and enjoyed the wisdom to the fullest, ignorant to the inevitability of time. Eventually the stream would cease to flow, and the coolness, nonexistent. But in that moment, life was simple, life was perfect.
Awakening from his trance in the darkness of the night, the man collected his thoughts. Raising up with his newly restored strength he grabbed his backpack and departed. Unaffected, he began his march into the eerie darkness of the alluring woodland. He would continue his search.