The windy path wraps around the leafy hill, a spiralling labyrinth of nature’s ability to deceive and surprise. The crudely formed walkway dips and twists, barely even in existence due to its inconspicuity, littered with rattlesnake holes and disruptive mounds of earth which attempt to halt any intruders who desired to invade the secret, woodsy fortress. The bushes, no matter what season, always sing the crinkling noise that dead plants make when brushed against, to react to being disturbed. An array of shrubbery, green, brown, yellow, ash, oaky - all the colors in the spectrum of the earth element - adorns the untrodden path. All the shades and colors wanted attention, overlapping each other in their competition to be the dominating hue on the hill. The branches jut out, scratching any passerby with their protrusion. Only those who the hill is comfortable with are immune to the prods, and can gently twist their bodies in perfect avoidance. The downhill walk begins as the path makes another attempt to surprise, the sharp turn reminds you of nature’s constant reign over its inhabitants, and the trees decide to comfort you with a canopy of patchy shade. The clustered bushes invite you in, a sudden opening in the abyss of leaves, giving a peak into the shy dirt who hid beneath the shrubs. The knobby branches spiderweb into an intricate pattern, leaves dangling occasionally to provide a flash of greenery. The mound of packed earth that is cushioned perfectly for sitting beckons you to relax, and you are protected in nature’s own cradle, surrounded by the seeds of the earth.