The Forest Behind the Pole Barn

Right off the cuff… There was a forest behind a large pole barn. The barn belonged to my grandparents. Their house was a small one-story cottage across the street. The trees stood on the side of the street near the pole barn. My four sisters and me would spent hours out in those woods while the adults talked, watched TV or whatever adults did when children played.

I once took my sisters out as far as I could go into those woods. To us it seemed like a 5 miles but in reality it was likely 300 yards. We dodged the trees, leapt over the broken ones and saw the edge of the forest. The light shown through the trees. We were like prisoners trekking out toward freedom. The sun got brighter as we got closer and when the tree line stood beside us we could see out across a vast field of golden corn drying in the sun. We all rushed outward from our wooded prison into the field of corn to play tag till we tired and head back through the woods, passed the pole barn, passed the cottage, crossed the front yard and dived into the lake until it was dark.

The forest behind the pole barn was always a place to go till a frightful summer when my cousin tripped over a nest of bees within a stump. After the stories of that day I never really returned to the forest.

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