Trees gently sway in the wind. Leaves underneath me crunch while I wander deeper into the waking forest. The cold air kisses my bare cheek, leaving me with goosebumps and a runny nose.

Throughout my walk on the trail, clumps of small, pastel, purple flowers welcome me. I notice that the trees are grouped into families. Long skinny trees, about as tall as a mast’s sail, stand together. They are nude with their coffee colored leaves in mounds on the ground. Gigantic pines line up in far reaching-columns, bare except for the needle-capped tops. Roots, deep in the ground, claim their home.

After wandering the path for a good distance, I stumble upon a lake. Sitting on its bay, I am secluded. The ground is still damp from the night’s dew rendering my bottom unpleasantly wet. The lake is calmly waving hello to me with slow ripples. A descended pine tree is to my left. Slowly decaying, it is covered only by a few pine cones and browning needles. The tree looks comfortable, stretched out on the soft earth. Another tree is on my right, still decorated with pine cones, but slowly decaying. The tree was recently introduced to the horizontal life. Both trees seem so content and at home. The season around me is changing. Leaves painted in greens start to burst into warm colors of reds, yellows, and speckled golds. Some flutter softly to the forest floor. The rising sun, north of me, is even more bright and colorful than the changing leaves.

Nesting in my spot, the once disrupted nature is calming. A few small songbirds in the distance are fighting to perch on branches soaked in the warmth of the sun. Some of the birds are still waking and singing their lovely morning songs. Others are scurrying around, busy collecting materials to construct their homes for the winter. A large bird with wings spread across the lake catches my attention. He is illuminated by the strong beams of the sun while gliding across the calm waters. Valiantly, he dives down, aiming for a fish. He misses, instead making a giant ripple across the tame lake. The birds belong in nature. They give the forest songs of love and busy work, creating both chaos and harmony.
        

A small chatty chipmunk rustles the leaves on the ground while scattering to the large jack pine that sits to my left. He effortlessly makes his way to the highest peak of the fallen tree and glares at me. The chipmunk lets out a high pitched screech, furiously shaking his entire self. I look closer, realizing he is angry with me. I am in his home. His black eyes connect with mine one last time before he leaps off the tree. After zigzagging around like a mad man, he settles for a tree by the lake with long branches.
Everything belongs.

Hand in hand, we are both laughing. His smile is so comforting and familiar. The warm, contagious laugh that could put a grin on even the grumpiest of faces. He looks at me with his endlessly deep blue eyes, and says “I love you”.

We’re driving down the curvy road to my house with leaves being whisked into the air as we pass by, admiring the colors of autumn. I notice the deep green color of the pine trees which reminds me that I may not have physical roots that keep me connected, but I do have memories.

This is home to me.

As I walk down the trail back, I realized every single thing belongs here. I say goodbye to the families of trees, as they wave the few leaves they have left. The songs of the birds start to become distant. Everything continues with their busy days’ work, as I head back home.