The Beaten Track

A déjà vu? What can I say? I know the track so well. It is so dark yet treacherous. I am not afraid. Careful, here is a curve, it almost turns onto itself. An old oak tree stands there, just off the corner. I can smell its delicious odour or feel its sturdy trunk, its cracked bark. I hear the lower heavy branches swinging slowly in the breeze. Watch out, there's a ditch there, dank water, that smells like drains. And just before it a small jutting rock that can easily help you tumble into the murky stinking place. Walk on, do not mind the dark nor the screech of the nightly owl, just mind where you step for the ground is quite treacherous here. It's not far now. Hear the dog on guard, barking its warning. Not to worry, it knows me all too well although I cannot see it. How can I? I'm blind.