Brick Castles, Deep Woods, and Wood Fired Pizzas

Somewhere beyond the city, past the towering buildings and rushing traffic. Somewhere within the hills and down the winding roads. Somewhere past the fluffy trees, and dark, dangling berries. Somewhere through the woods, and just across the creek. There was a castle. We could only just see it through the trees, over the ogre bridge. The water wheel was spinning, and the birds were singing. We could have been spying on some strange fairy tale.

That was where my brother was going to get married.

This was not the proper way to reach the castle. This was the trouble making, rogue route. This was creeping up on the back side and catching young ladies playing a delicate game of badminton, or croquet route. This was the sneak your boyfriend in the back way route. No ogres guarded this bridge.

There were also a lot of dark holes in big walls. The kinds of holes that you can’t see in without the aid of a flashlight. The kinds of holes that one laughs and yells into during the day, and desperately avoids during the night. The kinds of holes that seem darker once you realize you are in a cellphone dead zone, and you’re on a trail called Lair o’ the Bear. What bears might be out to get you if you’re not paying enough attention?

We saw no bears.

Having sufficiently covered ourselves in dust and depleted ourselves of water, we drove back out of the hills and along the winding roads. We drove into the rushing traffic, towards the towering buildings. We found ourselves in a small town, where we ordered beer, wings, and wood fired pizza.