Forest dreams

Today the walls are too close. Today, the windows are too small.
The sunburn aches on my back, a potent reminder that I don't spend enough time outside anymore.
My eyes ache from the monitor, eyestrain and headache from sedentary boredom.

Time spent on Pinterest staring at other people's gardens, other people's dreams while staring at a computer trying to make enough money to pursue my own.

Today, I don't want to stare at other people's dreams.
Today, I ache to walk out, pick up my car, and just drive.
Roll down the window and taste the cool air, drive north until I hit the mountains. Drive north until I'm lost on back roads with no idea of where I am going. I want the horizon to be close and green, the only walls around me.
I want to find a place to pull off; just leave the car running and walk out. Wander the woods until my clothes stop itching and I remember the taste of loamy air on the back of my tongue. Find water and head upstream, away from people, splashing until I am soaked and taste the copper from the hills in micro-particles.

I want to strip my clothes off and run, letting the brush tear at me- whipcracks of penance for my indoor life and softened skin. I want to run barefoot along the creekbed, wincing at the occasional sharpness beneath my feet and ducking the trees around me until the veneer of civilization sloughs off and I remember how to run.

I want to find a game trail and launch myself along it, easier strides finally settling into the rhythm from childhood when we all knew how to throw ourselves into the movement, ducking and dodging and moving with the speed born of a sixth sense about every rock, tree, leaf, and bush.

I want to remember what cool water feels like beneath my feet and the air tastes like when you're free.

Instead, the phone rings and my eyes are drawn again to the glowing screen...