Another night-story I wrote when I couldn't sleep
I walk through the woods by a small and narrow river. It's 2 PM and I am still out of my bed. I cannot sleep, so I walk. I walk and walk, not really reaching any destination. I am awake, but in a daze. The trees brush past me as I walk with quick steps trough the forest. I could lie, and tell you that I am wearing a white fairy dress, or a pretty night gown, but I won't. I am really not that kind of girl. I'm not that comfortable with my body, so I wear normal clothes. Normal for me, anyway. My blue hoodie protects me from the mosquito-stings, and my black jeans and white Converse shoes protect my legs from the spiky claws of dead branches on the forest floor. My shoes will probably not be very white when I'm done wandering in the forest. Not that I care really.
I keep my eyes down on the forest floor, expecting to see moss and dead branches, but as I look a little closer, I see that there is not only death on the ground, there is also green leaves coming from underneath the ground, there is wild flowers, and grass. In fact, there is a lot of grass, both the green kind, and the yellow dead stuff from last winter.
The sun gets in my eye as I follow the turn of the path, and I see a tiny lake, with the sun coming through the water from the side, making the water golden. I can see every little ripple that the river makes in the surface where it comes out from under a small stone bridge, made from four big slabs of gray rock. It's probably from the time they used to travel to church over the mountains by horse and carriage, and the bumpy road went straight through here. Now the road goes around the mountains instead, so this old road is not a road anymore. I can barely make out the tracks between the moss and the grass, and even trees have grown in the middle of it. The only ones using it is hikers on their way up to the foot of the mountain. As we move on to new things, a new time, new places and new people, some things gets left behind, no longer cared for. Just like this bridge. Reclaimed by nature, as I like to think. It doesn't make it horrible when you think of it that way.
I smile to myself, and walk over to the old bridge and sit down, running my hands over the rough stone, letting my feet dangle over the water. The stream makes a soothing sound, and I wanna sit here forever. Who knows how long this has been here and how many people have traveled past it, and here I am, sitting on it, like it is just a part of nature. Well, it is exactly that now, a part of nature. Just like myself, everyone I know, all the things we have. We are a part of nature, and a part of the universe. Just as the nature reclaims the old road to church and the bridge, the universe will reclaim our world, our planet and our galaxy. It's just a matter of time. This is what I think of, now, as I walk through the forest.