A Walk in the Woods
“I’ve seen trees before,” he said.
We were surrounded by dense forest near the Oregon coast. Some downed trees, lots of moss (I have a thing for moss) and a well-warn, sometimes steep path that leads to a rewarding view of the Pacific. I took him there to share something with him. Something I love, a simple pleasure.
I like to hike slowly, and stop often. I paused to take in the scene, and said something about how stunning it was. I took few photos. But he had seen trees before, I guess.
I wanted to finish the hike, but he didn’t, so we walked back down the hill, back to our books and our movies and fridge full of groceries.
It’s not that I mind being alone. I rather enjoy my own company. But that weekend, I was alone, with him. In a house at the coast.
When we walked on the beach the next day, the obnoxious part of me wanted to point out that I’d seen sand before. And birds. And lighthouses. I told obnoxious me to pipe down. I wasn’t looking for a fight.
Our burgeoning relationship lasted through the end of the weekend. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for in a boyfriend, but I was certain that I didn’t want to feel the way I'd felt that day in the woods.
Sometimes, I just want company to acknowledge the beautiful moments. A stranger, a friend, a lover. Even if we don’t find beauty in the same things, we can still appreciate them through each other’s eyes.
If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.