They feel like memories, they almost reach her heart, but grow cold before they get there.
Freeze before they can evoke emotion.
The cool dirt under her feels inviting.
Nostalgic.
She takes off her shoes and walks towards water, pants rolled up on the bottom.
One toe dipped creates the same ripples as her small piece of earth did earlier.
One foot.
Two feet.
Eyes closed.
Beautiful.
The sounds of birds fill her ears.
The wind blowing through her short hair pumps the blood to her veins.
The smell of wet dirt and oxygen, beat her heart and fills her lungs.
This place gives her life.
It's almost as if she forgot how to breathe in the city.
Like the nightmares she has, never came true.
They all just disappeared beneath her mattress.
The spider webs floating in the trees are old and abandoned.
The squirrels destroy them with their ambitions of reaching the top.
Never appreciating their beauty.
Glistening in the sunlight.
The pine cones are the future of the forest, even though they are small.
The leaves of the oak and quaky shake in fear of extinction.
All the fish want is to make it up stream to the lake.
And the bugs only want to not be eaten.
I suppose even here, it's just a race to reach the top.
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