I jump, and land softly on the ground like a cat. Bending low, I hurry along the well-worn path, around a corner, and towards a small, secluded area, enclosed by trees.
The left side drops steeply, as a brick wall comes up to meet the lush earth. A tall, tree, old and bent with time, withering away as I watch, stands guard over me.
A strong wind lashes the branches, throwing twigs and leaves, bits of dirt, and my hair across my face.
Somewhere in the distance, a tiny bird tries to call above the sound of the rushing wind.
I lie down, and face the sky. The blowing branches make ever-changing patterns above my head, and I drift in and out of consciousness, a small smile playing across my lips, and many thoughts chasing themselves around in my head.
I think of life, today, tomorrow, yesterday… I think of my family, and of all the people I know, the people that I know of, and the people whom I have never met, but whom I might meet, someday.
My thoughts turn to him. I cannot evade them. Ever constant, they are always there, reminding me of him.
This is My Place.