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spooking me to death - an added bonus to the adventure.

The snow-melt brought warmth and days growing longer again. Activity decreased measurably as high school loomed. Walks in my beloved woods, a slowing down of the pace, brought me closer to activity outside my inner sphere. Yet, the frequency of these forays decreased, which made them even more personal and distinct.

Though many of my thoughts turned inward throughout high school, my desire to be more aware of my immediate surroundings afforded me experiences that few others have encountered.

Because of one such event, autumn will forever hold a special place in my being.

It took place in a quiet, hushed area of the upper woods a place we called "the cathedral." The opening in the trees was round in shape, encircled by tall aspens and birches - evenly spaced all around. Tall grasses that had long overtaken brush piles, old decaying fallen trees, strategically placed fern beds - placed by nature - littered the enclosure. Its depth and width, maybe a quarter mile.

The only evidence of man was the expanse of two braided wires faintly humming far above, and the only visible pole was at the far western boundary of the enclosure. Saplings hid its base from view.

Because of the distance between the cathedral and the house, I didn't go to this sanctuary as often as I would have liked. This day, the conditions were prime for a gorgeous setting of the sun's rays, and its reflection in and around the abundant earthen hues - the peak of autumn.

Finding a darkened and rotting tree to sit on at about the position of 3 o'clock (facing east), I quietly lowered myself, all the while my eyes spanning my circle of focus. I didn't want to miss a thing.

I wasn't disappointed.

A tiny finch alighted onto a branch not 3 feet above my head and began to talk incessantly. If only I could understand, our conversation would have been interesting.

Muffled creaking of a dead branch attracted my attention to a brush pile approximately 25 feet away. A squirrel appeared, foraging for the coming winter. Then a not-so-pleasant site, though I didn't become concerned for the black and white form was wobbling away from me. I don't think it had detected me, or it just didn't care, for the skunk seemed in no hurry.

Quite possibly, all these wooded creatures felt no threat from me. I ventured to believe this was so.

It became quiet again, almost hushed. A breeze rustling through the leaves, sending a few to the ground, calmed me and I'd felt no such peace

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Reflections: Where was your favorite place as a child?

Reflections: Where was your favorite place as a child?

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