Special Place

     Upon entering the mindscape of my special place, I find myself where no other place can imitate nor perfect to greater standards. I see in front of me a fountain with a statue of a tall woman with flowing pink hair, curls so thick and so compressed that it's hard to tell they are multiple strands of hair fused into one. She wears a white dress of many layers, and a star design cut out where her midriff is, a rose quartz gem planted there. At the bottom of dress, which obscures her feet, showed a silver plaque with the words "Rose Quartz" imprinted. She standing atop the marble structure, watery tears falling from her gentle eyes. The water flows to the fountain floor, brimming it with life. Four other smaller statues of Rose Quartz sit on four diagonal pedestals of the fountain. The fountain has for lowered pathways, where the water floods and dips into a circular moat, dug down to the ground till I see no floor. Fluffs of snow dab the grassy area, bringing a sense of spring and winter. Trees of evergreens and dogwoods pop up from the ground, daffodils and marigolds rising from their roots. Berry bushes of all kinds sprout here and there, dotted with fruit all over. The sky glows of the morning sun, and shades the ground of the stalking night. Puffy clouds dot the sky in shades of yellow, orange, pink, and red. The sun rises ever so slowly, the looming rays casting a soft, luminous shine on everything the light seems to touch. When I looked into the fountain water, I see my younger self: the innocent me, the curious me, the young me. A cliff stands beyond the snowy and grassy field,  blooming with dandelions. The sky there changed to a full night scenery, dark clouds so rare as they pass the atmosphere. When the wind blows the seeds of the soft plants, the same seeds collect in the sky, and burst with bright light, shining greater than a firework. When the light fades, a visual of a past memories reveals itself, reminding me of the times I had. That very memory soon fades as the dandelions float away, but yet to come again.