Magical Places

The light filtered through the pine branches, illuminating the specks of pollen floating gently in the air, carried hither and yon by even the slightest breeze. Below, the carpet of brown, spent pine needles smothered my footsteps and those of my friends–Little Jeff, Big Jeff, Tyler, Wendy and my brother Ryan. It was here, in this forgotten glade of pine trees set high atop the peak of the biggest hill in our part of Wisconsin, that we had chosen to …


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