I used to love to tread the old cobble stone path.
Embellished with lillies daffodils, and wild
daisies that lavished their perfumes into the aura
of a fervent summers day.
I adored the frivolous breezes that would softly
whisper through my strands of golden curls and toss
them in the wind. The sun would radiate across the
blue skies, and beam its hues to settle and finally
rest upon the cobble stone path. In return, it
sparkled like diamonds and cast its radiant colors
off its otherwise, dull surface.

The cobble stone path would lead me to an old,
run down, two story plantation. A place where my
grandparents lived so many years ago.I use to
follow that cobble stone path almost every
afternoon. And each time my feet treaded those
little magical stones, I would be tarnsfered
back into time.

That old plantation would come to life for me
with green meadows that would sway to and fro,
the mild winds that blew across its country seat.
The once new, (pale in color) shutters had added
a decor, to a once affluent style.
And at times I could almost hear the cries of
laughter, echoing through its many years of active
corridors.

I would sit there for hours, mesmerized
by all the old reminents left behind from years
gone by. The old wood stove nestled in the corner,
with its stove pipe, once extended to the ceiling,
now grasping for the skies, As I set perched on the
old wooden floor, I could almost smell the
aromas and scents of the apple pies. Baked fresh
with the apples of the old tree in the orchard near by.

Not far from the old house, the well still stands,
yet has long been dry. Still dangling from its worn
out chains, an old watering bucket creaks as it
sways back and forth with the wind. Many a times,
I leaned over that old well and listened to the
echos in my mind. At times the echos seemed not
of mine but maybe of some other back in time.

Never failed, I'd sit there in an almost transit
state, til the sun would start to fade beneath the
rolling hills near by. The dusk would start to fall
upon the old plantation and the shadows of the
hills would start to hover above. I knew then it was
time to leave. Tread the old cobble stone path once
again. The old cobble stone path that guided me back
to my reality. The path that would lead me
back to my own mortality.