Discovered an amazing park down the street today, full of the quiet and serenity that you can only find in a grove of cedars. Spring Trillium blooms dotted the path, losing their last petals. Nettles pricked my ankles, reminding me of days I collected the plant for drying and later tea brewing. The sun glinted down through cedar bows, speckling me with odd shadows. The path embraced my every step.
Ferns coiled toward the sunlight, and cedar trunks hung with jagged bark and towered over everything. A giant Indian totem pole with carved and hooked nose looked knowingly across the way.