I found myself walking through the Forest. 

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Walking down the winding path I encountered something that appeared quite unbelievable.  There was a flash, followed by a remarkable, pulsating glow that fluttered through the trees to the humming of the forest as if dancing to its own song.  This fantastical vision seemed impossible, yet I could feel its presence so deeply, entranced by what I might discover if only I could get a bit closer.  So I followed this glowing light through the forest, through the most precarious tendrils, as it flickered through the trees with the forest bending towards its shimmering wake, playfully taunting but never completely revealing.  I continued deeper still, until there was no more semblance of the path, until there was no other direction to go but to follow this mysterious radiant.

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It had become clear to me this illumination was not merely imagined but in fact very real.  My zoetic surroundings in every direction imbued with brilliance like I had never seen, more than being cast into a vibrant hue, everything seemed compelled to reveal its essence while bathed in this light.  The rest of the world seemed to have melted away, and though now lost in the forest, I felt incredibly fortunate and could think of no other place I would rather be.

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And then it arrived.

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A storm had been ominously creeping, slowly building until the skies opened into the forest, leaving no course but to seek refuge hoping it might pass quickly.  The glow persisted, but through the unrelenting rains it began to slow until any movement was imperceptible, seeming to want nothing more than to continue upon its dancing way, if only this storm would break.  I tried to remain sanguine, convinced the path would reappear, but as the day grew long a most terrible unease took hold of me and wouldn’t let go.  Captured by the seemly inescapable storm for too long, the once powerful and resilient emanation had diminished ever so slowly until, with a defiant flash, the glow had vanished.

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Something vital had gone, something important to this world, but much greater than I could ever explain; a vision destined to remain my secret of fortunate regret.  So I’ve left a little something secret for you in the forest.  High atop the mountain overlooking the bay, you know the one, dripping with big trees and ponies. Hidden in plain view where it shouldn’t be, but in just the right place, the secret garden of Miss Mary Quite Contrary.  An afterglow of refractions, someplace reminiscent of home, filled with stories and secret messages; a rare and beautiful find until it slips away into time’s determined and ravishing embrace.