Green, that's the only way to describe it, the sun trying to peak through the thicket of trees, at the land that had been retaken by mother earth. Wispy vines climbing the walls of a hollow cabin like needy fingers reaching for another droplet of rain. The grass growing in thick blades of violets, oranges and emeralds running up to my sides. For many it was a unnerving sight of brambles, logs and stone, land that seemed past it's glory days of being a helping hand to man.
I remember this place, a distant thought of joy and laughter. Of smiling faces as a child so happily ran through crops that towered over her head. I remember cows and chickens, of apples and pears and strawberries, of pouting words at the sight of carrots along with scarped knees and dirty cheeks. Mostly though,I remember her face, gleaming of a bright future while an older man had watched from a distance. Age carved in his features yet his eyes, eyes so full of pride and life.
It's been so long since I thought of such a place. Yet here I linger amongst these forgotten weeds that stood in triumph. The smell of honey, pine and the ocean breeze that tickled my hair like a mistress that had waited far too long for a guest, had created a buzz within my skull in the most pleasant kind.
And as I walked over those creaking boards, opening the door that groaned in protest to show a thick layer of dust. I couldn't help but smile, a sad and even lonely sight, yet a smile non the less. Something that I could not say I have done in some time, my face contorted ever so slightly as though it has forgotten such a motion. Feelings wafting into my chest that seemed foreign, almost like an illness that at first one would want dispelled without a second thought. Still I hung onto that as though I would perish without such an annoyance in my body, it made me feel alive again, and it was the grandest thing.
Laying down my bag of few belongings, I sat on the bed in the far corner only to sink into a bundle of quilts and springs. I was not expecting much, while it seemed as though hard and unforgiving times were ahead of me, I looked forward to it. Nothing could be worse than the life I lived in a hollow box, with the cold stares and dead faces, the constant tapping of my hands at a keyboard, never seeing the light of a true day. No, I refuse to go back to such a cold place. Even if it meant that I would very much end up becoming a slave to this land.
Taking my hair in hand, I pulled it into a ponytail, a long mane that had grown grey due to the strain of my old life. I could hear the scurrying of rats in my home which only caused my jaw to set as an even greater amount of determination began to settle in. "Guess it's time to get to work."