No sirens. My bare feet borrow the other four senses, and feel the uneven, rocky, slippery life and death brewing on the ground.
Slugs are out celebrating the rain, an unsuspecting spider falls on my shoulder, and I hear at least thirty birds orchestrating the sunset, as my last thought drowns in the river sound.
In an affront to the deadwood, I jump over creeks, cross rivers, climb trees, sprint up hills and vault over fallen logs— just because I still can.
Here I am reminded, that I too, am just an animal— curious, exuberant, and unique. A river pebble carried along by stronger forces believing it swims.