I have a secret place tucked away in the deepest corner of my mind. This place, a forest with dark, stately pine trees brushing the clouds with their furry fingertips, it is a place that I like to walk barefoot through. I let my toes spread over the thick pine needles blanketing the forest bottom, and this magnificent tickling sensation shoots through my limbs. I tilt my head back and see a ring of treetops encircling me, I catch a glimpse of the big dipper and a shooting star seeping through the branches. The spotlight of the moon outlines my shadow, and casts light on the rough tree trunks I stand beside. I am tiny compared to these tree trunks. They are powerful, shooting out of the Earth, and I am only resting the palms of my feet on the surface. I don’t dig deep the way they do. Even so, I venture further into this forest, deeper, and deeper, until I am no longer surrounded by pine trees. My naked toes are sinking deep into white sand, soft as silk.