Day 20,

Between Worlds

Walked the Greenway again tonight, that stretch where the trees lean in close like they’re trading secrets. The air was thick with that October damp, leaves halfway to mulch, woodsmoke somewhere far off. I like how the ground gives a little underfoot, like the earth is breathing slow.

Heard something laughing out there. Not loud, just enough to make me stop mid-step. Thought it might have been a fox, or an owl pretending to be one. The sound carried, and for a second, I could have sworn it was human. A voice out past the last light, where the path curls down toward the creek.

Ended up finding a clearing I did not remember. Bone-white posts ringed the spot, old and worn, maybe remnants of a fence. The place felt watched, but not in a bad way. Like the woods were taking attendance.

There was a woman sitting by a crooked stump, wrapped in smoke from a fire I had not noticed until I was almost on top of it. She looked older than the hills, but the kind of old that laughs easily. Said I had wandered into one of her shortcuts. Told me paths have personalities, and some of them pick favorites.

We talked. About the weather turning. About people rushing past what deserves noticing. She poured tea from an old tin pot that did not taste like anything I have ever had, but I felt clearer afterward, like the static between thoughts had burned off.

When I blinked, the fire was gone. So was she. Just me, the trees, and that sense that the trail had rearranged itself while I was not looking.

Made it home before full dark. Still not sure if I met anyone at all. But the woods have been different since. Quieter in some ways. Kinder in others.

Might walk that way again tomorrow, just to see if the path remembers me.

#roanokeva #fieldtrip #painredrocks #sassafras