Only the Forest Sees me Naked

All of me feels like too much for anyone, it takes the forest for me to feel like there’s something I won’t overwhelm.

Bend of the river at dusk

The dogs try to wrap themselves around me again as I gape at the salmon pink clouds showing off over the indigo mountains. I drop their leashes low enough to step over and remember that I’m supposed to be exercising them, so I head down the road to the field that leads to the river. I concentrate on them for several minutes together and then the mountains and the moon are on the other side of the road. This always weirds me out because it doesn’t feel like the road curves so much when I’m walking it that the view should switch sides on me. 

I’m once again the only one outside. In my mother-in-law’s neighborhood, I rarely meet the neighbors, even walking my dogs several times a day. I’ve passed people headed to the river overlook exactly twice so far in all the years I’ve been doing this, twice a year, winter and summer. 

All three of us exhale when our assorted feet and paws leave the pavement. The dogs immediately find something interesting that needs deep snif…