At twilight I walked into the woods, not intending when I set out a few minutes before to step onto the trail, but when I saw the curved line of pine needles leading into the forest, I changed course. The ferns and mosses surprised my eyes and feet, so different from the harder ground of the woods at home. The silence drew me in, and several times I stopped to be still.
My mind reeled its little stories, but the loops got further apart as I walked. The smell of lilies in a surprising garden at the edge of one cluster of trees, pine all around, carried me further. I followed into clearings, then funneled back into the darker dappled light between trees.
I emerged somewhere, and followed the silver glean between the trees to find a half-circle pond on the edge of some apartment buildings. I went back in to step as quietly as I could between the birch and pine. By the time I found my way onto the road between the library and the dorms, the light had dimmed, the air had lightened. I followed the globed street lights to find the glowing windows of my dorm.