TrojanCentaur

Trees. Trees enclosing me in a windy sea of green on an ocean seafloor. My Gran and Granpa there also, immersed in mottled shade, looking down on me, a mere sprat in a never-ending sea of trees and leaves. I long to go back, but I never will.         The photo was from long ago, taken in my grandparents acre sized 'back yard' I simply called 'The Garden'. This place was huge; a well managed forest more accurately describes it. I would spend many hours wandering The Garden, hunting unseeable creatures while lying on the damp ground, and running from monsters of varying imaginative forms through labyrinths of path and trees. Then I'd run back