The sound of leaves crunching under my sneakers on the familiar path to the forest always brings me a special kind of peace. I keep my pace quick as I follow the sidewalk towards the opening to the well travelled forest trail at the end of my block. The sky is a vivid blue, mocking me with the idea of a warm summer day. The air however, is already a touch bitter with hints of the winter. I burrow my nose deeper into the large scarf I have wrapped around myself and tug down the sleeves of my many jackets and sweaters I have piled onto myself like a nest. Winter is approaching fast. I can't say I love the winter, in the winter my days hiding in the forest, nestled in the crook of my favourite tree are slim to none. The air is too frigid to linger for long. Some days I still try to bear it for as long as I can. Anything I can do to escape the hell I call home.
Well a ways down the path, my feet take me off the beaten trail. A path well travelled, but only by me. Ways into the dense wood, far out of view of the main walk. I stop at a huge tree, a massive oak tree with heavy garbled limbs and big curves perfect for sitting against. My beaten backpack thunks to the ground, practically bursting with all my most prized possessions. Old books gifted to me by the kindly Mrs. Mable, the retired librarian with eyes heavy with unspoken sympathies, like she knows what happens at home. Thick blankets to help me stay outside as long as I can. And piles and piles of papers full of doodles, drawings and sketches of anything and everything hiding in the forest.
Tugging open one of my blankets I spread it out onto the lumpy forest floor. Another I wrap around my shoulders and pull out a well worn book, one of my favourites. I take a moment to breathe in the cool, fresh air. The smell of damp earth and wet leaves fills my lungs. I might hate the cold but the smells of autumn and the bright oranges, red and yellows of the leaves in full colour is always one of the best things in the world. A burnt earthy orange is one of the best colours on earth if you ask me. Turning back to my book I delve into another world, a perfect, attainable escape from my own.