abandoned

The little cabin looked as though it had grown rather than having been built by any human hands. It had grown up, provided the shelter that is its purpose, and now was returning to the earth. The logs melded naturally into the surrounding moss. Ferns softened the corners. A sapling grew in the rich humus of the rotting cedars that had once been walls.

Abandonment. It has such a final and dramatic ring. And yet, sometimes it is merely allowing things to return to their natural state. We cling to things, and to people, not knowing that sometimes, walking away is the most natural thing to do.