Short Colorado Story...

The mountains always kept Marie extremely busy. The sound of a rushing creek just above the small, smooth pebbles that took refuge under the freezing liquid, or the feeling of the wind gently pushing her hair from your shoulders, or that satisfying crunch of the stiff, frail leaves under her boot as she trudged through the brush early one saturday morning. In the fall, the air was cool, just about being cold. The perfect temperature for a cream orange sweater and a pair of dark high-waist blue jeans jeans. She wore a brown leather jacket as well as a wide brimmed brown hat. She also sported her camera, the strap around the back of her neck as she looked only for the perfect subjects to photograph. Photographing nature was her favorite way to waste a day in the mountains of Colorado.

Marie’s hands silently touched little brittle branches of each tree she passed, feeling the texture and roughness of the bark. The aspens, naked with only their bare wood exposed, were always something of interesting to her. Sometimes, she would come across an older aspen, one with a carving in it. She always made it a game to try and find the next tree that grew from it, the younger one sporting the same markings as its mother tree. Some trees had initials with a heart around them. Some had the dates of past days and some sported some, other things. When she came across initials, Marie tried to piece together what their names could be, what they were thinking when they took the knife to the thin skin. When dates appeared, she guess that most of them might be people’s anniversaries, birthdays, wedding dates, when people passed away, etc. Sometimes, she’d come across quotes in the bark, reading them out to the babbling creek that never quit talking and to the trees who always whispered little nothings in her ear as she walked by.

“Oh, here’s a good shot.” She said to herself, bringing the camera up to her face as she aim
ed the lenses towards a group of pine trees. They seemed huddled together in the midst of their aspen neighbors, protecting each other. The click of the button always brought a sense of satisfaction to her, calling the tension out of her neck and shoulders. The crisp air burned Marie’s lungs as she breathed, smelling the pine sap which was prominent in the musk of the damp dirt, undoubtedly getting stuck in the crevices of her boot. When she was satisfied with herself taking the multitude of pictures of the pines, she sighed, releasing all other tension which laid in her body.

The girl decided to go more towards the creek, following the sound of its calling pushing against itself in a hurry downstream, locked in a never-ending battle. Dawn was commencing, the colors of the sun casting the magnificent oranges with baby pinks to reflected off the rushing creek. The world around her displaying such colors lit an internal fire within her soul. Marie carefully bent down to wet her hand in the as the water welcomed it with a gentle touch. The cold had more of a bite to it than the air around her, the sensation bringing goosebumps to call all over her body. She smiled to herself, but the joy was replaced with fear when she heard the snap of a fallen branch in front of her.

Marie’s head whipped up her head in alarm, ripping her hand out of the water with a small gasp, but she realized she wasn’t in any danger.

What made the snap was a family of deer who called the Colorado mountains home. Three females with their four fawns at their side, them taking careful sips of the mountain’s tears. Others were feeding on the brittle brush that hardly held their green, something they seemed to fight to have every fall. Everything either a beige color, some aspens still have
yellow/orange leaves, all of which the wind hadn't taken away.

Marie would’ve sat down if not for the dampness of the gravel her boots sank in as she stood, so she substituted for kneeling, making the knee of their pants wet. She slowly drew her camera from its place hung place hung around the back of her neck, commanding the lense to open as the beautiful sight was begging to be captured, forever immortalized as nature’s masterpiece, not the first and hopefully won't be the last.

After taking a few more images of the deer, Marie stood up, admiring the graceful creatures as they walked. She always thought them as looking different, they almost disporporshianet to the rest of their bodies. She wondered what they were thinking at that moment, asking herself if they had seen her and are were so docile that they felt safe enough for them to be around her or maybe hey hadn’t seen her, her orange sweater acting like camouflage.

The morning breeze suddenly picked up as the air pressure changed with the warming of the Earth, the sound of leaves falling being heard through the forest, her curly hair swaying slightly, restricted by her hat. Her hands trailed down, crossing over her waist as she shivered. Marie’s eyes never left the sight of the dear. She felt a sense of home in the company of the creatures on the other bank and the creek, and the talkative trees always keeping up conversation. Then she felt the small vibration in her phone.

She took it out to respond to a text, her mother asking what time she would be home. She stood up not thinking, too quickly, frightening the deer. She looked and reached her hand out with an apologetic expression. Puckering her lips, looking to her phone in her hands. When she swiped the keyboard, the screen froze. Confused, she tapped the screen again, but soon realized her phone was dying, and after a couple more seconds, it had.