Over the Hills and Far Away

I've heard it all before, time and time again. Sometimes I am just completely in my own world, over the hills and far away. Living in my head, consumed by my own thoughts, a little spacey. At home, I could go off by myself, to my room, to sit under a tree, to think through my thoughts or reflect, meditate. I guess since I am living in such close quarters with people and I am constantly around someone, I can't really hide this fact about myself. Just today I was walking with two friends to the in-con to pick up some things and I looked up to see a tree, framed by a sky blue sky, filled with the most vibrantly red fruit. Brown birds flew around the branches, eating the fruit, singing to one another. I couldn't help but stop for a moment and smile, meditate on the scene. I guess I forgot that I was engaged in a conversation at the time as my friends stopped to stare in amusement at my behavior. I didn't even notice until they started to mock me; of course, all in good fun. Other times I'll be in my floor's lounge doing homework or talking with people and all of a sudden I'll just stare off into space for a while and smile or have a quizzical expression. Someone always asks me what I'm thinking about. Most of the time it has nothing to do with what's going on, and usually it's something that I wouldn't dream of sharing; they are, after all, my own thoughts. My friend always tries to catch me when I'm thinking, he finds it entertaining, I find it natural. There was a trail which wound its way through a patch of woods near my house. I used to run on the trail frequently but it wasn't uncommon for me to wander off into the depths of the woods when passion inspired me. I guess that this is what led to my connection to Thoreau. I'm not sure why I feel emboldened to write this. It just seems to be another one of my random thoughts.