My safe place....
It's out in the middle of nowhere, theres no paved roads, no evidence of human life. Theres a huge open field that stretches as far as the eye can see, and towards the middle of it(but not quite) there is a weeping willow tree and a brook a little ways off (far enough to run to, but close enough to run back to the willow tree to dry off after swimming).
During the spring it's bursting with wildflowers. Lavender, daisies and dragon snaps are especially abundant. In the winter the snow is white and unblemished as over all of the field. There are always deer, lambs/sheep and other wildlife around, and they aren't afraid of me.
Sometimes there is a little foot path leading out into the field, and I think it eventually leads to a little Victorian influenced home. I don't know.. I haven't followed it yet, I am content under my Willow.
Under the willow is anything you could ever need or want, but only when you need it. The only thing that stays the same is the swing hanging from it's branches and it's climbability. Sometimes theres blankets and pillows and books galore, sometimes there are matresses laying about and sometimes theres just a single blanket to sit on and think.
When I need them my friends are there, we meet up in the distance and run together to the willow tree where we lay down our things and sit. Or sometimes we run to the brook. In my field it is perfect, never too loud and the way the plants blow in the breeze it almost seems like they sing and make their own music. Just the way the wind whistles through their blossems is soft and melodic. Nothing can hurt me there, and nothing matters but what I decide matters. There I'm not disliked for who I am, I am embraced and sometimes (sometimes, just sometimes)... my willow tree will provide a new book for me from it's branches. It's always a beautiful piece of art, and always helps me develop and love me. Everything is perfect here..
