Mountains.

Dirt beneath my feet, rocks poking my toes.

Cold air, fresh. 

Lost, wandering.

Trees tower above, their leaves vast and wild.

Their ancestors of the past crunch beneath.

No one around, safe. 

Intrigue swirls around my head, isolation.

Curves on the horizon mimic mine, ebbing and flowing.

Sun begins to set.

Darkness.

But I am not afraid.

“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”