i walk through the ferns in search of a place that i may take a sit down.
 their wet leaves brush against my spindly legs as i pause before a thicket,
 wondering, can i pass through it without getting scratched?
 should i?
 i walk around it, missing as i do, the lost ten dollar bill under it.
 i will never know.
 stepping lightly through the ferns i see splothces of sunlight
 making their way through the canopy,
 and again i pause...
 to stand in the light...
 a momentary pause in the light.
 it's morning, and the sounds are different from the night before.
 as i look around, everything is washed and clean, bright and green.
 sounds echoing from far away and near.
 the ferns are wet against my spindly legs.
 i feel something move against my foot and i look down,
 trying not to be sqeemish and jump,
 to become part of the nature around me.
 it's an orange salamander, and i almost cry.
 the joys of finding a salamander on your foot, in the woods, in the morning.
 i wait for it to pass, before i move.
 my guts reminding me why i'm out here.
 suddenly i get goose bumps all over my body,
 in the wet morning,
 and i'm no longer comfortable.
 the salamander moves on, and i shudder with my needs hanging inside me.
 i sprint, uncaring, a few more yards towards a promising dale.
 it's wide open,
 but who cares.
 i've got to go, sit down, in the woods,
 it's why i'm here.

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