A forest. Thick with trees, but the sunlight does come dappling through the cracks of sky on top. Places where branches have parted ways from tree trunks, giving the sky a place to break. The sunlight streams through. It is cool, but not cold. The forest floor is soft carpeting and I am alone. On my left, I hear the soothing sound of running water. Very distant. I turn and head towards the sound. My mouth is cotton, parched. I need a drink. After a few paces, I stumble on the creek. It is louder now, more insistent. I watch the cool, smooth water roll over stones. The current is mild. I get down on my knees as if to say a prayer, and lower my mouth to take a long drink. These are times before manufacturing and overpopulation. This is the time of isolation and peace. It is cooler by the creek. After I quench my thirst, I dip my hands in and wash them. I am clean again, reborn and baptized in Nature. The dirt comes off so easily. I sit on a rock nearby and glance around. I could get lost in here, physically and mentally. The forest is a self-contained womb I’m sure I could survive in for weeks at a time. It is preferable to socialization and reality. I realize I just want to be alone. As I have this thought, I hear the crack of something stepping on a branch. I freeze, not wanting to be disturbed. I quietly and slowly turn my head. It is a deer. She hasn’t seen me yet. She approaches the creek to take a drink and does so. She then looks up. We make eye contact and we are both frozen to our spots. Her tongue comes out of her mouth as she licks her nose, getting the last bits of moisture into her mouth. We are across from one another. Separated by this creek. I feel worthy in this moment. Not sure what I was expecting, but I am disappointed when she turns and leaves. Back into the trees, to her home and family. I hear the distant call of a bird and I am snapped from my reverie. I reluctantly stand, knowing the moment has broken. I must find my way back. Back to my home and family.