Missing Minnesota

The time seemed to slow every time I found myself in the woods. Somehow I existed in an enchantment. The temperature was cooler. The light was richer. The freedom was boundless. Why did I move away from that place? The solace of my soul isn’t quite as rich in the red rocks as it is in the pine groves. There is an ineffable bliss in being essentially alone among the flora.  The sound of the traveling water moving on soothes some deep unknown wounds in a way that nothing else does. The only thing that draws me out of it is obligation and responsibility. My soul is still there. I know I left it in Lester Park.