At Carrot Ranch this week, Charli says, “I’m connected to the past and future, to the Lake Superior pines not yet free of snow, to the wilderness I’ve seen and not seen, to forests on distant shores. For a time of healing, I’m going to imagine forest bathing.” Wilderness does connect us with past and future, and to our selves. It is our sacred duty to preserve and protect wilderness for future generations. In turn the wilderness will preserve and protect us. The April 19, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about forest bathing. You can use the Japanese term, Shinrin Yoku, or you can make up your own ideas about the phrase. Go where the prompt leads. Respond by April 24, 2018.
Stark, by D. Avery
Serena stopped often to breathe deeply, filling her lungs, her heart, her soul with the spruce incensed air. She loved walking this familiar path among the trees, but quickened her pace as she approached the high mountain meadow, delighting as always in the waving grass, the colorful wildflowers nodding the way to the small crystalline lake cupped by the snowcapped mountain peaks. Serena drank it in. The guide suggested other experiences, but Serena always chose to return here.
“Serena, time’s up. Remove the apparatus and step out of the capsule.”
Sighing, Serena left the virtual wilderness, returned to reality.