I am the lost maiden in the forest of auburn tees and evergreen leaves. Where the curved path of stone leads me to the true homely caverns , where inside walls are caressed with the touch of painted flowers upon a maroon canvass, where depth is carved. Holstered upon the wall are the grandest of all lamps. Like medieval bowls, they allow the golden light of night to flourish. Hidden behind wooden panels, that latch to close,are  draperies of endless red, and amongst the sea of dark beauty is I , the sullen girl, of adventures calling.

Outside rain has loosened its last drop. Where the winds were once harsh, slanting the boughs of its neighbouring trees, it had now beckoned. ” come outside, would you please, oh maiden who sits upon the arch less bed in darkness.” It took one mere call, a whisper of the winds,  a pleading of light pellets, before the tap of ruby red shoes  and an unlocked latch, freed me to adventure, of the forest outside.

The wind kissed my sweater less arms and bellowed out to the direction, where a pasture of trees hid an unknown  wonder, a hidden palace. The walk had begun. Upon uneven rocks where each step was gallop of excitement, I stood like the sailors of viking times, in search of what lay beyond, what mine own eyes could pester to see.” What could it possibly be, why is it so hidden.” Twirling and skipping, time had lost its meaning.Only the rocks and the pasture had colour, the rest of the world were soundless words.

Dancing among the bushes, I hadn’t realised that I had trailed off the path, and wandered into the sea of green, the bounds of grass, which encased strands that held droplets of dew that tickled bare legs.  My eyes had opened to a sight of nearness, of grey stumps , that peered behind the bushels of green and  upright wooden fixtures. Engulfed in excitement , were my limbs that raced against an unmade path. A roadway never travelled. An adventure, made just for me .

What felt like an eternity of seconds, I ran, before I stood at the gate of trees. A song of fairies called me inside, an unrestrained swift step through the underbrush, I entered the castle.

The Castle , which was no castle at all. Was no home to any prince, nor the living either. The castle was drained in grey air that stood still among the trees, the grass that lay beyond, here stood brown, with no kiss of green. This  was a murderous sight, where had I stumbled, on these stilts of mine, what had I  found. The cold sodden ground where the resting lay. I had disrupted ghastly hours. And for this disturbance, would I repent.

Behind me were crackling sticks the sound of a distant guttural cough, I had trespassed to a point of saviour, no one would hear my call. “Where would I run in this pasture of green: where would I hide”. No leaves or stumps , could engulf me as I wished, none could protect me in my need. My heart was a beating palindrome that tilted endlessly.

Nearing, was the aura of the unknown, the ghost of the grounds keeper. Before his question the loudest calling, ” who’s there?, ” could echo to the depths of my curious ears,  was I off on the stilts that once carried me to this unknown castle, the resting place of memories long gone.

Through the grey mist, swiftly past the  twinkling of a fairy song and below the underbrush I galloped , like a horse released into a boundless pasture, until once again I found the cool caresses of evergreen grasses that calmly rested in their expanse of lively beauty, which lay beyond the grand grey castle of the resting dead of Interlochen.