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My Paradise
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My Paradise
Visiting my backyard, especially on a sultry day, can be my favorite way to spend the day. Behind my house, barely noticeable, is a small pathway through the trees to a pond with a waterfall. Everyday I walk down the three concrete steps to the path below. The path is narrow but well worn. Any shrubbery that would have grown has been trampled down and all that remains is a very narrow path, overhung with branches from trees that are by its side. There is no wind on the path just the smell of fresh grass then I begin to feel the trees closing around me until I can no longer see the house. A few yards down the path opens a big clearing. I begin to fell a light wind break between the trees. I approach quietly to not disturb any of the creatures that have come to enjoy the cool water. This is my beautiful, enchanted paradise, my escape from everyday issues, with chattering squirrels and singing birds, which I have every time I enter my own backyard. I slowly cross over the pond using stones, which show the wear of several previous crossings, so that I can have full view of its beauty. I can hear the rushing of the water coming down from the top of the hill over the rocks. I sit down in a white wicker chair next to the edge; I begin to gulp the beauty as a staving man would gulp food. I start my usual ritual of examining the edges of the pond by gazing down the right side of it first. I notice that the wild azaleas are in full bloom and that the trees leaves are star...
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