I walked up the path
Made from stone and rock
Breathing in the scent of moss and rain
Small wooden houses reared up on the hill
Several chimneys lit up with smoke
Breathing in the scent of fire and forest
I saw a man pushing a wheelbarrow
Filled to the brim with wood
He looked at me and greeted me, then said
Just a little village, nothing to see here
And then he was gone....