summer

He buried his face into her chest, breathing in. She smelled like sun-warmed skin, the faint sheen of sweat soaked into fabric, faded sunscreen and river water, particles of clay dirt swept up by the movement of wading feet. A reminder that maybe there was just a bit more to summer than migraines and awful, cloying heat. No one could be sure if that feeling of wilderness freedom was worth the tolls that the season took on their bodies. She remembered days of trudging through the woodland under cover of deciduous trees, deer watching her movements under coverage of foliage and squirrels scurrying out of the way, so common as to be barely noticed. She would stand at the edge of cliff faces, looking down at the verdant valleys below, breathing in humidity and light. The new forest had its own beauties. Pure, clear water constantly on the move, the juxtaposed chirps of the massive eagles that circled overhead, keen eyes piercing the clear refracted river for fish, the mountains jutting out over treetops where in the pace of her home the horizon would be flat. There were honesty to the claims that it was the most beautiful place in the world. A fresh purity, places that felt really and truly private. One could never forget the rocky, hidden caves of home, carved by glaciers centuries ago. What a paradox, she was. Tucked away indoors, whiling away the time with her face pressed to the electronics, but when leaving it wanting nothing more than to immerse herself in the silence of nature. Stop talking and listen, for it says more than you ever could. Tucked away in that jaded heart was something truly wild. Something that would not mind stepping between those wild, wide pillars of wood and disappearing into the green.