Stand in a majestic grove of tall pines.
Endless trunks surrounding
a blanket of burnt orange needles.
far apart they seem,
but this grove's depth eludes you.

The sun wrestles to peak it's way
through the dense fir
but the basking heat muscles it's way through.
The day is welcomingly warm.

Birds orchestrate the background.
As you listen, the dance seems pleasantly serene.
As you drift, they seem tacky and repetitive.

Snap back to the moment,
intrigued by a large boulder up ahead.

One and only,
it appears ripe for a sitting.
an unfamiliar
but old feeling hits you. Sparked.

A small burst of energy
has you excited to
jump and climb up the rock,
eager only to get there.

Scramble huff but only notice
how wonderful it is
to feel this young.

Atop the boulder you tower.

Turn round slowly
peruse that landscape.

Such a simple vantage point
inspires a sense of wonderment.
What a few feet can do.

Satisfied, you find a good edge
and sit down on the rock.
No, your tapping heels do not annoy the rock.
I'm sure it doesn't mind.
Probably because it knows you'll move on eventually.
Can't sit on the rock forever.