The place I would most like to be is in the mountains. Not just any mountains, but the mountains in Casper. The air there is perfect not biting or melting, just fresh. My lungs seem to thank me there. Giving them a break from terrible city air.
I wish I could be there in my best friend arms as we laughed. The sound echoing off the mountains walls as we climb down into the valley. Filled with tall waving grass. Blonde as her hair. The smell of life, even the breath of beauty and nature. The bird calls and sounds of our laughter ringing in my ears. In her ears. That smile, that laugh. My cheeks hurt from smiling and my stomach from laughing.
We wade through rivers having splash fights dunking each other head first into the chilling water. Shivering, with purple lips and wet hair. It's perfect. We climb out still laughing. The warm sun blessing us with warm light and the bolder beneath us helping us dry off.
Then we look at the setting sun and laugh.
Laugh because we have cheated the devil called growing up, called adulthood, sadness, work, stress. We have beaten it.
We build a fire. A huge roaring bonfire. We dance around it singing nonsense and jumping, hollering like a pair of idiots. My favorite pair of idiots.
We eat nuts and berries till our teeth are stained blue or red. That will give us the idea to paint. Smushing berries, making our paint; Indian war paint. Running around screeching like the little girls we are. Roasting marshmallows in the blazing fire.
Then, eventually falling asleep from the exhaustion of our day, we lay crumpled on each other, like newborn pups. Only waking every now and then to see the stars and fall back into a blissful sleep. Hugging each other for warmth, blankets piled around us. In the middle of our grass ocean, keeping us safe.
But when we are ready, we’ll storm out there to take over the government of growing up. And we’ll teach them how to love, have fun, and learn.
We’ll teach them our ways.
The ways we laugh, smile, and scream with joy.
We’ll teach them to enjoy.