Fern Valley

 Fern Valley

Fern Valley to me is just a place in my imagination, nothing more, nothing less. It does not exist, it is not real. So, what exactly is Fern Valley if it does not exist and if it is not real?

Fern Valley lives deep in the back of my mind, way back in the spot of my mind where cobwebs grow, back in a part of my mind that has not been seen or heard from in years.

In Fern Valley, there are rolling fields, deep, rich green in colour and there is a rainbow around every corner and yes, there is a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow.

In Fern Valley, at the edge of the fields grow deep rich ferns. The deepest greeenest colour you could ever imagine. The ferns are waist high and are so tall that they are bending in the wind.

In Fern Valley, there is absolutely nobody else there. Just myself because that is the way I like it. Nobody to yell and scream at me. Nobody to treat me badly.

In Fern Valley, I can go there whenever I want to, wherever I am, whatever I am doing. It will always be there for me, deep in the back of my mind, way back in the spot of my mind where cobwebs grow, back in a part of my mind that has not been seen or heard from in years.