Personal Narrative: Miner's River

For a few summers after my daddy went to heaven, I found myself taking long walks into the woods, a far piece behind the back of my house. When I was young I’d play there every day and over time the trails grew wide. I knew those chaotic mazes as well as my own reflection in the Miner’s River. Sometimes I’d count the steps it took to reach a fork on a specific trail, having already decided which trail to take till I arrived. Flecks of sunlight would flutter through the branches, playing peekaboo before hiding again. The warmth of a summer day was like a blanket in winter and I fell in love with the way the comforting heat made me feel. It was inescapable. I felt nothing but peace during those walks. Often I’d lay my back upon the hard