I took this photo of a path in my forest acreage. Sometimes you can see moss that looks like tiny trees. I wonder if there are little creatures peering up at me just like I am looking into the trees and beyond. Maybe creatures are looking down on us. There is magic in these woods. The silence of the forest is broken only by animal sounds, and the sighing of the wind through the Mississippi pines. Native Americans once lived here. There are five mounds in the lower 40 acres. They always yielded pot shards and arrowheads when farmers plowed, but now they sit in peace, never to be disturbed again--at least while I live to protect them.