We are in the valley between two mountains
coated in blue,
like sheep’s wool.
It is suffocatingly beautiful,
and exhilarating at the same time.

A river runs by us.
White stream-water moves quickly, unreservedly
down the wooded granite peak
towards the river,
as if filled with the joy of being home.

The road we took was far too filled with cars
for any bird to call these woods their home.
We were alone
with the sky and trees,
with the mountains and river.