Vibrant green foliage surrounding my peripheral  
Steady flowing blue burbling stream
Yellow brown slime covered rock path
Fallen branches littering the foot-made mud path
Abandoned graying spider webs whipping with the breeze 
Glossy black plumage flies by singing
Dead gray moss turning to dust beneath my feet
Fading candy wrappers maybe musketeers
Broken bird eggs lost and forgotten 
Roots wrapping around roots stringing along the waterway
Water sloshing up off random rocks 
Long strands of grass being dunked by the current 

Silver fish strong enough to survive the swim by the bank
Rain trickles down, giving everything a shine
The grey sky is littered with darkening clouds 
Small squirrel scampers past searching the dead things for food
Unseen birds call out, for what I’m not sure
Dead fallen pine sits rotting on the path
Wet dark hair mixed with pine needles sticks to my face
It’s getting colder, my breath in front of me warns of it
A small cavern sits against a rock wall
The inside dark and musty
Water trickles down cracks on the walls
Loose stones and dead brambles trip up my feet
The world doesn’t breathe in here
An animal scampers past, can’t make it out

Outside the rain feeds the wild
I wonder if this is something Charles Dickens liked to do.