a hundred acre wood
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A walk in the wood of a morning
Olden woods are my favourite. Wild places where we leave things as they lay and let the world take care of itself...the way it has been doing for ever and ever.
Perfectly fine without us.
When I was a girl I could walk through our backyard into a conservation area that was nothing but woods.
A few clearings here and there and a small stream...frog pond.
I would spend days in there coming home only for food.
Hours and hours - seasons upon seasons - years upon years.
When I was a young teenager we moved closer to town and I stopped going into the wood.
But the wood has never left me. It's still my favourite place to be.
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