There is a place I go with an entrance through which I emerge into a room of green: green carpet at my feet, green walls with pillars, and a ceiling of green and blue. A breeze flows through and the ceiling is set in motion as if little hands are waving. Sometimes, through openings, I can see clouds sailing silently by as well as birds and an occasional squirrel.
I have a special chair where I sit in this calm space and relax, listen to the breeze and distant, far distant, sounds. The natural music there is more than sufficient. I sometimes cook there and sometimes stay the night. It is my special place, my refuge from the world. Often I write there and have written stories, poems and other work there. Sometimes I write about that special place so as to share it with others far away, even those I don’t know.
I regret that not everyone has such a special place, so I share it with those who will respect it and myself. I have had long, satisfying conversations there. I have helped people appreciate the natural world around them. Hearts have been touched and comforted there. For that, I am grateful.
This is a space I have cleared among the trees at the edge of a meadow at the top of a hill out on the farm where I grew up. It is not always green, but the changing seasons change the décor and some times brings flowers.
One thought on “My Special Place by Duane L. Herrmann”
Your place sounds so peaceful! Thanks for sharing it!