The Village

Amidst the windy tales of fall, the dancing trees and musical leaves, the immovable mountains of green and brown , the melody of nature, there in center lies a world.

This world is small afar, just right in mid and big when near. Of course you are to be a child to think likely.
Now this particular time or moment , you decide, when leisure is stories and stories are made to keep this world breathing.

A Country side! must you exclaimed but yes a country side you are correct.

Meet Janson, a boy of ten and Jarson another boy of ten, this time of day they play wild among the woods at edge of their land. Yes they are brothers, yes they are twins.
" This bit is magical!" Says Jarson
" This bit is more magical." Interrupted Janson, but together they laugh.

Now in time at observing twins you would agree that if there is magic its always in their between, the connection and precision. They maybe inseparable , twins are identical but not all aspects of them are. And thus the village will always know, who is who and who did what.

Now they walk towards home. Afraid of what will be when their light is gone, they reached the village safely. Heads turn to greet them, some telling them "Go home lads you've had enough."
And some would call out "Its the boys of Cal."

For their family is known for charity but if its them, the boys, then for their adventures. And sure there were children running around them as they chime in the wind in their lungs, with confidence at their stride. They would say in their minds , hypothetical but might, "We are the brothers of adventure great minds of imagination."