We have been running free in the woods again, Dog and I, following knots of pathway. Around us trees bend and snake in deliberate shapes, brambles set sinuous ankle traps, fallen logs are my balance beams. Dog is puff and leaf-smacking wag: when she is gone on her chases I hear leaves break stem and land.
Spiders throw galleon lines: they love to play Pirates.
It doesn't have to make exact sense, it is what you want it to be; so we run and we are as we wish. If there is a means to break this spell I will never seek it.