~ The Meadow ~
He approached the edge of the forest. The meadow spread itself out before him like a green velvet gown, holding within its gathers both light and shadow.
With rolling hills, the brightness of a clear stream flowed among the folds.
He longed to make a home here, to nestle among those folds. The first tree felled and the drive of the stake would be like claiming a maiden.
And yet he could not imagine compromising this beauty, for she was yet untouched, undiscovered, unspoiled and kept in secret.
He would respect this meadow as something to be held above himself and others, and not spoil her lovely gown with the soil of the earth as it was turned. Nor would he take the aspens and firs that protected her like a fortress.
He would see to it that for now, her clear flowing streams would not be muddied by hooves and wagons.
He would leave this meadow as he had found it, like a surprised and blushing young damsel.
But he would take the valley that held her and make his home nearby, so that like some sacred place he would visit now and then and wonder at her timeless beauty.
