I have no memory of this place…

This should get easier. I tell myself this should get easier. I should start to recognise key places and routes. But the forest has other ideas. Paths by the river are eroding and vegetation is springing up all over the place. Once a mud path was here…  Once a track was there… Where am I?

This is getting harder. As the weeks progress, I’m moving on to other projects mentally and physically. As the Good Pennies decay and fade from existence, so they fade from my memory.

More Good Pennies are now missing. Others are in a bad state, returning their clay back to the earth. I have no memory of this place. This is not the place I left, but here is the place I find myself in.