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And the marvel of watching animals in their natural habitat.

So one day she decided to venture into the forest and go camping.

She packed her tent and a sleeping bag, some warm clothes, and a bit of food.

She put on a pair of sturdy hiking boots and she sat out into the wilderness.

She went to an area that she knew well. She'd been there before. She'd walked to the trails,

and she began walking along her favorite trail. It was a well-born dirt trail with tree roots

butting out of the ground here and there. It wandered along streams which babbled quietly, steadily.

Trees rose along the sides of the trail, offering shade from the sun.

It wasn't hot though, it was fall. So the temperature was cool. The air was fresh and crisp,

like a ripe apple.

The gentle breeze blew through the forest, rustling the trees, and occasionally sending

eaves falling to the ground. Red, yellow, orange, and brown, the leaves drifted slowly from the

canopy, gently tossing and twirling on the way down.

The ground was soft and cushioned her steps, making it a particularly comfortable path to walk along.

It was as though the path was telling her that it wanted her to walk there, as though nature

was inviting her into its home with open arms.

She knew this trail like the back of her hand. She'd taken its twists and turns so many times before.

...