resting on a bench
across the sound of the trees
a lone birch tree
Wandering, identifying trunks with labels, leaf shadows falling into place on the gravelly path ahead of us, an army of pondskaters by our side and yet an entire element away. Started the day with the first time I've jogged in three years even if just a brief interlude before pastries and coffee, but I felt my nostrils again as if I was waking up from a coma and my imagination confused itself when my lungs didn't turn themselves inside out. Stamp stamp stamp like a factory press, turning the brain into feet before anything else gets the chance to take hold.
Back into the waters from a year ago, blotted with cloudstains and plastic inflatables, shallow and filled with the warmth of a curate's egg. Splash splash splash turning each step into a snow plow and laughing off each droplet as they burn in the breeze and the sunbeams. Sand on bellies and then shiver, shiver, more coffee and galettes to feel alive and ok.