Woodsmoke, Laughter, and Warmth

Woodsmoke, Laughter, and Warmth Sunlight slanting through pines, the creak's cold whisper, a child's echo of laughter. Bare feet on smooth stones, slick with moss. Ankle-deep in melted snow, a shiver on the skin. The taste of distant winter, sharp and clean. Splintered light on the water's surface, a fleeting mirror of a girl's wonder. Flickering flames, a circle of warmth, faces I know by heart. The mountain's breath a memory. Drying by the fire, the scent of woodsmoke clinging to a wet t-shirt. Laughter, a low hum of stories, spun in the smoke that rises and disappears. Hands held out to the heat, the red glow on fingertips. The day a perfect circle, beginning and ending here. A final, deep breath before the chill returns.