Ardell and I have come to the realization that although the characters in our favorite fairytales are fiction (as far as we know)...the settings of these tales are entirely true, real, factual, unelaborated non-fiction.
This path through the woody glen got thicker and thicker and the path smaller and smaller as we rode through it. We are quite certain this was the same route Little Red Riding Hood took to her grandmother's house and we thought we might see the wolf behind every thicket.
It was raining and the wet air released the scent of leaves, and flowers and the fragrances of soil and blossoms....the memory of this smell in my childhood came to me full force...the rich, transending, and liberating aroma of the outdoors and all the promises it holds for a day of adventure....it is amazing what you forget about when you get older entangled in the responsibilities of grown up life.
Being in this setting....it is easy to know that the stories write themselves...they just simply unfold before you...the key is to remember them because once you leave the enchanted forest......
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