A Walk in the Woods [WILL BE FINISHED IN AUGUST]

Part 1

He walked in the woods.

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It was a crisp, clear day in March. The light wind, picking up and swirling around dead leaves from the autumn, was cool. The bright sun, though covered by a thin shroud of clouds, was warm. The sky was a melancholy blue, with pale streaks of pink and yellow and orange. Plumes of smoke were rising from the chimneys in the houses in the town.

The sun had just risen an hour ago and the day had just started. The world was still waking up from its daily slumber, yet there were the few already up and ready. The clip-clop of horses' hooves on cobblestone could be heard from inside the buildings on the central street, and the scent of fresh-baked bread could be detected near the bakery.

Shops were starting to open and customers were beginning to enter. Still, there was a sleepy haze surrounding the town. A child dressed in her nightgown and holding her teddy-bear was gazing through her bedroom window and rubbing her eyes while her mother with smile lines set out the clothes she was going to wear today.

As the morning progressed, more people went outside to do their daily business, creating a busy, bustling atmosphere. The buildings along the street cast shadows as the sun grew higher and higher. Very close to the main city was the schoolhouse, where the little girl was learning about writing. Her mother was doing the laundry and preparing lunch.

It was but another ordinary day.

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James Everly decided that today was the perfect day to take a walk in the woods. He was an artist from the city. Low on inspiration for his next masterpiece, James thought that nature would be a wonderful place to have a sudden revelation for the next piece of art. Perhaps patrons to the gallery would like to see birds chirping for a doe with her fawn.

It was decided, then. James put on his fine fur coat, which was a college graduation present, and his hat, another graduation present. He also grabbed his sketchbook and a pencil, for a moment of serendipity. He turned the lock on the front door to the shop, closing up his gallery and studio for the rest of the day.

James embarked on his journey, but not before visiting the bakery for one of the fresh loaves of bread. He had smelled the bakery's warm aroma all morning and was hungry for some bread. It would make a nice snack during the trek, and it might attract some birds which would be good subjects for drawing. 

He continued on his way, observing the shops and homes along the street, which discretely turned into a path. He stopped for a moment to watch the local blacksmith by trade, captivated by the sparks flying from hammer hitting the anvil. It would be a good to paint in acrylic, James thought, envisioning specks of orange and amber on a scene of black and gray.

Later, he noticed a young boy covered in red spots. It must have been varicella, but at the moment, James was thinking about painting red splotches on tan-painted canvas. He had not even entered the forest, yet already he had two ideas in his head. He considered returning to the studio early when he faintly heard something.

Intrigued, James went closer to the edge of the woods where the sound was coming from.

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