Late late, too late, I finally slipped into bed, opened the window and where was I? And when?
The sound of rush and tangle of wind in tree leaves, the smell of night, and the bright starry sky.
July, 1967, the northern Michigan woods.
My very first boyfriend and I.
Every single night we gathered blankets, hunted for driftwood on the shores of Lake Michigan, built a fire, and settled in together in each others arms, chatting, giggling, kissing under the shooting star sky, while birch trees blew in the wind above and beyond.
I had not thought about this in years, but here it is. Thank you, Nightwind.