I walked through the grass which was nearly to my knee in height; the blades of grass blew in the wind, as did the weeds and other various plants that I saw that evening; what of the animals, you might ask? There were none to be seen here; this is what I thought. It was a strange sight however; in front of me to my left, next to a large yew was a path; it seemed to be made up of various pebbles and larger rocks. The odd sight made me falter but I soon regained my stability; I decided to follow the path, or rather I chose to. The scenery was somewhat the same but the path seemed to close in upon me; I felt claustrophobic. In the everyday situations I have experienced, there has never been an ordeal with claustrophobia. This experience was far different than my usual life. The sounds I heard from the surrounding area seemed to diminish as I headed further down the path. A feeling of isolation set in, and I soon began to panic. I looked to my left and right; I looked up and down. I wanted to turn around to return to where I had started. Perhaps I should have done this; curiosity encouraged my journey. I began to notice that the rocks had become dirty with soil. The path was damp and eroded. Toward the end of this walk, I saw what looked to be a larger opening in front of me. This excited me as my heart was full of hope. The sun was descending into the horizon and the nocturnal insects had begun their reign. I felt as though it took several minutes to reach the opening. Relieved, I looked back and saw how far I had traveled. Everything around me was surround be thick forest, impossible to penetrate. My journey was not complete yet; the path led to a medium sized bridge. Underneath as would be expected was a gulley. The channel roared softly; I was not intimidated. I ambled to where to bridge began. It was wooden and rotten; decay from many years of weathering made crossing it treacherous. I abandoned my journey here, hoping that I would someday return to this exact location. I would like to discover what is beyond that old, dying bridge. Every time I remember this, the cross over the bridge seems less dangerous. I then remember too, the companions that would have been awaiting my arrival in apprehension had I continued.