Too long away from the woods

For too long, I have not visited you, my woods, not explored beyond the ruined fenceline. Massive trees, storm-toppled, sprawl across the wispy threads of old, familiar trails. A loblolly pine that once stood strong on the slope's edge now lies lifeless, its needles dry and brown. I feel a pang of sorrow, for it was always a welcome brushstroke of green amongst the dull oaks. But clinging to a boulder nearby, a new pine stands, as tall as me -- truly, how long has it been since I visited you, my woods? I pull away a tendril of honeysuckle that seeks to climb and choke the tender tree, and vow to become a friend of this place again.