Walking through an Appalachian forest. Little blue butterflies flying around my feet. Climbing up the banks of a rolling waterfall, pulling myself up by tree roots. Moist earth. More little blue butterflies. Clean air. Green everywhere.
Walking back through a light rain.
Swimming in the middle of a mountain stream, surrounded by trees. Fish swim by. No signs of human life.
Walking home, flecks of mica on my feet.
Sitting on a screen porch at night. Fireflies and moths on the other side. A chorus of insects. River flowing below.
How can I live like this more often?
There’s a haiku here somewhere.