Memories of a Forest

  This is my first time sharing any of my writing, please be kind to me!
And I'm still trying to figure out how to use Writing.com, so if I did something wrong please inform me, but I'd appreciate it if you could do it nicely!

  Not a mile away from the bright yellow duplex of my childhood in a little village in Germany, there is a dense green forest. It’s large ancient trees hiding most of the sky, letting only little specks of blue shine through the seemingly impenetrable wall of leaves and needles. The ground consists of a tangle of wild bushes, grasses and herbs, with the occasional group of mushrooms hiding beneath the thicket.
  The air is heavy with the scent of pine needles and rotting leaves, the forests scent is so strong you can almost taste it. Silently a nearby creek babbles to itself, as it runs down hill into a small lake. The lake shines blindingly, glittering as though there were precious stones beneath its waters.
    A cuckoo repeating itself like a broken cuckoo clock sounds nearby, songbirds sing out their souls, while the squirrels fly along the branches, heard as they rustle through the leaves but unseen.
  Red jaws with petite piercing teeth entrap a small gray bird with a light orange chest, a Rohtkelchen. The red fox trots off into the bushes to enjoy her meal. But she is startled and runs into her hole beneath the ground, the earth starts to lightly tremble with a premonition. Just then a herd of wild boars stampede through the thicket and continue on through the forest. A flash of brown rough fur with ferocious ivory tusks, gone as quickly as they had come.


  Through these woods runs a small path; smooth from the many people it’s guided safely through the forest and from the hooves of the cows that have been led on this trail from one pasture to another. This small path holds many fond memories for me. Summer was a time to explore. My brother and I loved to wander off the safety of the trail a little, but never too much. After all we’d been told the old fairy tales since we were little and none of them ever had a happy ending. The giant trees with their enormous branches, thick enough for my friends and I to walk on, were perfect for grand adventures of saving the fair maiden from the evil sorcerer. The thick leafy bushes made perfect little houses for my dolls. But a little deeper in the forest was a small swamp, dark, misty and mysterious, my friends and I were always a little afraid of it. Though that never stopped us from going in, climbing over the rotten trees, walking into a million spider webs to then return home exhausted and covered with itchy mosquito bites.
  During autumn, when the leaves danced to the ground in every shade of gold and crimson, my family and I would stroll through the bright forest. Relaxing, we enjoyed each other’s company and the surrounding beauty. 
  Winter memories consist of being dragged on our wooden sleds to our favorite sledding hill near the creek. My family and I would spend hours there until we could no longer feel our fingers and our red faces stung from the icy winter wind. The lake would be a mirror for us to slide around on until our bodies were so sore from continuously falling that we convinced our father he would have to pull us home on our sleds, once again. That forest will always hold a special place in my heart and I hope to someday return and to once again see the sparkling lake and wander along the smooth path.