A Fine Misadventure
I loved the wooded area behind the house where I lived as a young child. To me it was an almost magical place. There was a cleared trail that ran the length of the trees edging our backyard, and I spent many long afternoons playing there. Sometimes I would imagine that I was Laura Ingalls, living in the Big Woods of Wisconsin; other times I would pretend that I was an adventurer, hiking through the ...
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