You could walk right past it unless you knew it was there. Even then, you could still walk right past it unless you knew exactly which trees to look between. It was hidden away in the outskirts of the town, deep into the woods. No smoke rose from a chimney, there were no poles erected to carry power to the premises. No electric lights ever shown in any windows to alert anyone to the presence of humans. Oh, if you moved past the great, elder pines and and fir trees, you would eventually find a small space between two saplings. And then a slightly larger space, and larger, and larger. Mind the ivy, you hear, step off the unmarked footpath the wrong way and you'll be scratching your skin off for the next two weeks. Only once you got to the mouth of the path did it open up into a small clearing of trees. The grass was the first thing to see; that after all that trudging through wild and untouched woods, a patch of ground clearly worked by human hands, had been cleared away to make room for a small, rickety, barely still standing old shack. It looked like a forgotten or abandoned old place at first glance, unless one looked a little closer at it and ignored the groomed patch of grass around it. Nestled in between the trees, still partially hidden from view even at such a close distance, there were the tell-tale signs of children littered about. A washbasin and archaic old washboard spoke of a woman's presence in the area. But even this close to the building, there were no sounds to be heard; no voices or laughter. Every so often one might smell the acrid scent of dandelions and Medicine Leaf being roasted, but it quickly faded into the background around the rest of the strong-scented pines, fir, evergreens and other assorted wildflowers in the area. No two wall panels were made of the same material; no two panels were even painted the same color. A makeshift porch had been erected, barely being held up by the fortunate position of a tree branch, which had slipped it's way in under the corrugated roof over the years. It looked as if the shack had been pieced together from a junkyard pile; the door hung partially open, and a fox darted out, stopping only long enough to sniff at the air before hurriedly disappearing into the woods again. The wind whistled through the tops of the trees, and upon closer inspection one might catch the brief hint of a candle flame burning inside of the haphazardly built little shack. The mountain rock to the side hid the place from view at the coastline. The woods kept it hidden from view from the road, and in fact it required quite some time walking to reach the road from the place. The trees themselves created enough of a canopy overhead to hide it from the air. Tools and piles of scavanged materials were arranged around the outside of the place; patches of wild growing plants showed signs of human hands grooming them. Lines set up for air drying clean laundry were visible; around the back of the place were a few more toys of the children, and more gardening and construction tools of the adults. Patches had been applied all over the shoddy structure to keep it upright and semi-livable. Only once one began approaching the little shack and observing it's immediate surroundings did it become apparent that people - an entire family, not just a hermit - actually LIVED here. --------------------- I have WAY too much fun with set dressing. LOL