The trail wound out before me, a long snake, burrowing through the tall grasses which covered the field. I could see it only as it disturbed the bend of the flowers and the thin reeds in the tiny vale. Around me, greens flowed like waves and little bits of red and orange flashed in the surf. I know this serpent is leading me somewhere. Where exactly, well, I'm not too worried about that right now. I find that many people I have known concern themselves with only where they are going, and they tend to forget where they actually are.

I cock my head to the side in thought, remembering certain friends I know in their moments like that. Sometimes it can be a good thing, but not always. There are times when people choose to look ahead, and they try to make their future become more like what they wish it to be. It is those times when I think people can make a difference, those times give me hope.

Yet there are other times, when some look ahead in order to escape their present, to escape the situation they are in here and now. Sometimes a person may paralyze themselves by dwelling on what they think might possibly become a bad situation. I do it every once and a while. And at that point there is nothing much I can do besides just taking in the reins of my mind and gently guiding myself back to where I am. The present moment.

I breathe in deeply, the air is pure, crisp, even while the moisture hangs in the hot day. I look across the field to see a few dark birds winging around in the sky. Crows, they are, bringers of mystery and oftentimes, trickery and games. I can hear them calling further down the path, and I, for one, love to hear their voices.

I find myself stopping in this tiny trail to watch them as they circle around a large tree, alone as it is in the field. They call to one another, seemingly in friendship and sport, as they participate in a chase around the tree. It appears to me that they need nothing more, they are dwelling in their chases for the moment. It seems that they will worry about food and drink and shelter later on in the day, maybe when it becomes appropriate to do so.

A smile comes to my face as I bring my mind back from its travels once more. I look down at the trail and begin to move along it again. The crows continue to play in the distance and I listen to their 'words'.

The snake crosses a small stream and then slithers up a shale covered hill. At the top of the slight rise, the trail continues into a wooded area and angles down a bit. As I walk, the crows calls fade a little into the distance behind me.

The path splits, one snake moving forward, and the ground becoming damp beneath it, another snake winding up onto another small hill. I pause for a moment at this intersection and ponder my options.

A small fence, which is broken as the path crosses it, lies a short distance along the lower path. I walk towards it, ever curious as to what I should not venture beyond. From behind the fence, further down the path, a cool breeze blows, beckoning me past.

As is my want with most things that call to me, I trust my feelings and continue in past the broken fence.

Beyond the man-made gate, there appears another gate, this one not so obvious. Two trees growing on either side of the damp pathway, and beyond is the bottom of a small, rocky chasm. It is from here that the refreshing, chilly wind blows.

The path continues on inside, and I follow. I enter slowly, with a small prayer of respect to the spirits of the place. The spirits of the guardian trees, the playfull crow spirits around it, and the rock spirits which shelter this area and hold in it the much needed coolness.

The rocky sides grow slowly as I look further down in. Moss holds to the damp rocks and jagged edges like a lover, and small puddles of murky water form here and there at the low points of the pathway.

I traverse inward along the edges of the puddles, crossing over between the sides on jutting stones and small logs which rest in the murk. As I am crossing a particularly large pool, I begin to wonder again just why I felt drawn in here.

I think back to the crows, so large they seemed to me. Almost as if they were closer in size to the raven, their cousin. I stop for a moment on the log and ask the crow spirits to show me the raven. Then I return to my crossing.

The ground at the end of this log is dark and moist, and I scan for any good rocks to step to. Before I find one, my gaze is captivated by an object lying there on the black, wet earth. It blends in well.

I slowly drop to a crouch and reach down to examine it. It is a feather, a large, black feather, shiny and pristine. As I raise it and spin it in my fingertips, I see that it is free of the dirt and muck upon which it rested. It seems to me almost as if a raven deposited this feather with great care so that I might find and enjoy its beauty.

I continue my trek into refreshing coolness, until the path ends, and I know the feather to be my reason in coming. I turn and move back down the path from where I have come. As I reach the place of my gift, I stop and look to the sky, sending my thanks to the crow and the raven for this place and this feather.

As I exit the gateway of the trees, I hear a loud raven voice speaking out in the valley below. When it finishes, a chorus of crows raise their voices in response. I smile at the sounds, knowing that these two things were what I was meant to find.