Adrift in Solitude

Adrift in Solitude

A fleeting encounter with nature’s quiet embrace

I am adrift in solitude, untethered and uncertain of my place. The fog is so dense I can taste its damp weight on my tongue, wrapping me in a veil of quiet isolation. Yet, in this sightless cocoon, my other senses awaken with a keenness I’ve never known. I strain at the silence and hear a distant warbler’s song drifting through the mist, the soft, hushed dripping of dew racing down slender, leafless limbs. The aroma of the rich ancient loam of the forest floor awakens me with every breath. 

I revel in solitude for a few moments, but it can not last. Slowly, the sky brightens as the breeze picks up. The forest animals become active again, going about their daily routines. In the distance, I hear the trucks on the highway grinding gears as they ascend the mountain highway. Con trails crisscross the clearing dome of blue above. The phone in my pocket buzzes, reminding me I am no longer adrift in solitude.