There’s a story in every image.
Life suspended for a moment.
Long enough to catch your breath.
Some images spark all five senses.
The musty smell of damp twigs
that never reach the light of day.
The sound of thin paper faintly rustling
as the wind pushes against the aspen leaves.
The early afternoon sunlight filtering
through the canopy as I step off the trail.
The taste of the bitter espresso seeping
through my teeth
pooling at the sides of my mouth
as I hold back my words.
As I pick up my own jagged stick and stab.
Feeling the dull reverberation
as the earth pushes back.
Trying to remember what it felt like
to be a kid. Trying to remember
how much I loved the woods.
Because I did.
I loved the woods.