Dryad
DryadI often left it all behind and headed for the mountain. It’s a place I like to go when I’ve had enough of my daily dose of troubles. So off I went alone. The mountain is steep, not like rock climbing, just a robust ascent. The skies are gray. I travelled a wooded trail. I had hiked all day and planned on camping over night. The hour was growing near when day is neither light nor dark. As I stepped over a fallen branch, I wonder just when that moment crosses over. There must be that...