Over the woodland the path takes  two different routes. One to the sea down tracks of windswept sands and bracken. 

The other takes you deep into the forest, it’s winding roots pave the way. Branches reach to you like contorted arms through mottled sunlight. 

The windswept path is my most traveled one. On sultry evenings the salty air clings to your skin, like a delicate coating of Iridescent stardust. 

I never walked with you here, yet it’s  where you fill my heart, my thoughts. Here surrounded by these scenes I cherish.


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