The Woods of Scharbeutz

I wanted to tell you about the woods of Scharbeutz, how the trail I took wound through forest and fields, past horses and an apple orchard.

I wanted to tell you, but time got away from me, and soon it was six months later and I had all but forgotten how it felt to lose myself in the secret sylvan world on a continent and in a country not my own.

Had I remembered, I could have shared the experience of emerging from a dark wonderland and onto sunlit cobbled sidewalks lined with flowers and corn fields.

Only to lose myself once again within the walls of the Wald kingdom.

Had it not been so long ago I may have recalled that it was verboten to cross the railroad tracks, but that I did it anyway because the trail told me to.

I wonder if I remember the sanctuary I felt, alone in the woods, a rest and repose from the overwhelm of travel and not a moment alone before the forest found me.

Perhaps.

Should any of these memories return, you will be the first to know.

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