One day a long time ago, I was angry, fuming, sad and despairing. That snowy morning, I crawled into my car and drove, making the first tracks along the way. I left the highway, and crossed the narrow bridge over a wintery river, determined to follow the water as long as I could. When the road veered away from the river, I parked and walked into the woods. I don’t remember what I was upset about, or how I resolved my feelings. But I know that I walked and prayed and kicked rocks and cried.
I walked, and prayed and kicked rocks and cried and I found my secret place. There was no sign to indicate where I was (although maybe there was a No Trespassing sign, come to think of it), and I wasn’t even sure how I’d gotten there.
I went in empty and left with treasure.
Here are some bits of it.