On The Shortest Day

Yesterday the sun didn’t show itself and the fog never lifted. Unsurprisingly I had a difficult time staying within our four four walls. The forest was calling me.

After following a path I’d only walked once before, I found myself in a part of the forest that appeared far more ancient than any of the other places I’ve wandered in this part of Sweden.

Most of the trees had branches formed like witches fingers, and were enveloped in linchen that hung like old skin.  I felt as though I was wandering from one John Bauer painting into another. I didn’t want to leave my new wandering grounds, but the dark was quick in coming. I’m going to be sad to see the days lengthening, I treasure the early dark.

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