Forst Hideaway

the sun peeked over the horizon waking him just at the crack of dawn. it was his day off and he felt like sleeping just a bit longer but he knew that if he did, he would miss the beautiful sunrise so he jumped out of bed, threw on the same dirty stinky clothes he wore yesterday, packed his laptop and guitar and was out the door. 
instead of driving, he walked down the road to where it met the highway. across it, there was a housing development with many back yards filled with plastic playgrounds. decrepit man made garbage. 
down the path beyond everything else was a radio tower and past it, the woods. he hadn't been to the woods since the snow had melted and it felt good to be back. the ground was wet and soft under the liefs due to all the recently melted snow. his shoes sunk in and he could feel the wetness go in through the thin leather and into his socks. uncomfortable, yet he had to push on. 
within moments he was lost in the forest. everything looked the same. all beautiful and reaching out towards him. the air was cold. much colder than in the city. it was hard to believe that just moments ago he was being deafened by a roaring highway and now he was here. after going down a little valley and stepping over many dead branches that had been knocked down by the heavy snow, he came to the place he had found last year. 
last year when he had first discovered the little hideaway in the woods he had come to play guitar and it started to rain. 
just before packing everything up and going home, he spotted a strange formation in the trees. as he approached, the mistery of the formation solved itself in front of his eyes when he saw that it was just sheets of plywood and logs put together as a small overhanging shack. to escape the rain he crawled underneath. it was only about three feet off the ground and only shielded the space of his body from the rain just barely. he laid with his head up against a tree that was bent almost to be a perfect wooden pillow and he played guitar as the rain fell and little drips hung from the sheet of plywood. it was cold and his fingers felt frozen and barely wanted to move across the fretboard of his guitar but the moment was too good to inturrupt. 
he loved the forest and vowed to go back every chance he got.
when he eventually emerged back through the branches and got to the side walk there was somebody walking their dog who looked at him as though he was bigfoot or some strange outcast. "its still much too cold to play guitar" he said, feeling very awkward and wanting to be atleast somewhat friendly so the dog walker didnt think he was a maniac slasher who lived in the forest. the dog walker awkwardly walked away very fast. 

immediately when he got back to the highway he was hit with a wall of noise and suffocating stench of all the citys traffic. 
he wondered how people can immerse themselves in it 24/7. the place in the woods called him back . but he would have to wait until another day.