The Trees Above

What a wonderfully​ charmed life I live!
I sat on a tree trunk with knees bent like those pictures of woodland fairies on toadstools. It had fallen to the ground years ago and was now covered in a sprinkling of green dust. The sun fell through the sparse spruce branches above, soaking me in its warm spring light. Ben Howard sang from Arron’s phone and he alternately snapped sticks and blew on the small fire behind me. The smell of woodsmoke drifted over. 

In the soft light, strings of spiders’ webs were visible in horizontal lines from the young trees in the small clearing we had found. I could hear a road in the distance. We were not so far from the town, but it faded out of my consciousness, drowned out by the beauty that engulfed my senses. 

My bicycle was propped up against one tree. Arron’s bicycle was propped up against another. The spokes on his back wheel remained missing, still broken since we discovered them last night. I knew he was frustrated, as I would be if the situation was reversed. Yet I felt grateful. How lucky I was to end up in the forest for an extra day, able to enjoy the sunshine and a campfire! How lucky we were to be living this simple life!