She can finally see a hint of it,
Its red fluted aluminum roofing peeking out, From the densely packed fir trees that veil it.
She runs towards it, excitement growing,
Ripping through tangled layers of overgrown ferns and salal,
The crunching sounds of fallen red and golden arbutus leaves underfoot.
Standing alone, surrounded by nature,
Sounds of wind rustling through trees, strong smells of pine,
And sweet smells of amber coloured sap and ripe red berries overwhelm her senses.
Staring in awe at this otherwise dilapidated, derelict structure,
She touches it, crisps of peeling paint break apart in her fingertips,
The weathered red roof, rickety wooden floor and unstable walls shelter dear memories,
Where most may consider it as ramshackle—she sees it only as beautiful.
~ Jennifer O'Brien
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