Saturday morning dawns and I am wide awake. In fact I haven't slept all night, my mind was racing and I couldn't get comfy. Instead I'm sat on the sofa watching the sun rise through the front window.
The brilliance of having no neighbours and a panoramic view onto rolling hills and flowing fields of lush green grass. In winter, the white blanket and grey mist fill the eery silence with it's mysterious gift, the gift of solitude.
Out the door I go, bag over my shoulder and supplies at the ready, I'm heading for the meadow, my piece of heaven, my true home.
Treading up the hill as I reach the top the meadow spreads out before me. How much has the meadow seen in it's time here? How many lovers have strolled here as fledglings and come out stronger than ever?
A shiver runs down my spine, something is happening and I have no idea what? Looking around the scenery doesn't look to have changed, but something has happened.
Out the corner of my eye I see a flash of someone walking up towards the meadow. Very strange though, the person looks like he is wearing older style clothes, perhaps they like it that way?
Oh my god, he, yes he looks to be approaching me. My heart beats like never before as he edges closer. I feel like I've been hit by lightning, could he be the one?
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