Home

My home is where I feel at peace. Home is in nature. Where the air smells fresh and tastes minty. Where the glistening water reflects like a mirror. Home is where you hear a choir of birds flying with their dazzling feathers. The trees, with their thick fog of green, the sound of howls at night, and salmon splashing at the end of a hook. The forest trail is littered with leaves, a vibrant palette of orange, brown, and red. The moon glowing like a 24-watt light. It casts a somber shadow on the cedars which reflects against the birches. The hoot of owls up in the willows. The stars looking like a distant destination on a map. I don't know where I am going but I keep walking. I see a fox with orange tainted fur that camouflages with the leaves. I hear the sound of a squirrel nibbling on an acorn. I hear the growl of a bear followed by a honey badgers whimpering, and a symphony of animals echoing throughout the trees. I hear the songbirds whistling like a flute, the wolf's howls vibrating like a trombone, and the raccoons clicks and pips that sound like a miniature cymbal. The feeling of fur snug in my hand keeps me warm. Home is the ever-lively nature growing around me, like the bacon for my eggs.