Dappled sunshine peeked out through the green, scalloped leaves, creating dancing patterns on the soft dirt and twigs along the shore. The wind barely moved the air; she could smell the thick, heady scent of must and soil from where the soles of her hiking boots caught looser patches, turning up grubs, grass and wet terrain. Her heel slid slightly in a muddier slick, down towards the water, and she laughed to herself, throwing her arms up into the air to regain her balance before bending down to remove her shoes.
A crisp, simple trill followed by a faint warble comes from the high-branches of the trees above her head, and she pauses in her work to look up and watch the snowbird perched nearby. Its head almost black, with gray on its breast like a vest over a white shirt-underbelly and slate-gray wings, she smiled up at it happily. "A little late in the season for you, dear one," she said with a yank of her boot, pulling it from her foot and tossing it to the side of her, near her pack and poles.
She eyed the water, sparkling at her teasingly, and wiped the spare strands of hair from her face where they had come free from her pony tail. The hike into the deep woods had been tough, and she was warm, but as promised by the guide back in town, it was well worth it for the quiet she found here. She peeled off her sock, tucking it into the matching boot, and then lowered her foot down into the soft earth. She felt it give slightly beneath her, and smiled again.
A second call from her bird friend broke her from her daze, and she went to work on the second boot, continuing to talk to him as though expecting him to respond. "You know, this little pool here, Snap, it has been here since the glaciers moved south on their melt," she said conversationally, yanking the second boot from her foot, and nearly falling over in the process. "The ice moved and as it did, it picked up rock and debris from its sides, the bottoms of valleys, and rocks that fell on top of it. Then it melted. So stuff moved, lakes formed, and over a long time, the movement sort of scraped the land into what you're living in."
She looked up at the bird, which looked down at her and warbled again. "You're not interested, are you?" The second boot tossed next to the first, she peeled off the second sock and stuffed it into its home.
With that, she stood straight, stretching, looking out over the water in front of her. The little cirque glistened at her in temptation, tall pine trees lining the opposite banks of the bowl and a distant pile of brown debris that she could almost make out as a dam of some sort. At the shore, the soft black dirt gave way to rounded stones and smooth pebbles, gravely fragments left behind by the moving ice thousands and thousands of years ago. The sunshine sparkled. Snap trilled down to her. She couldn't resist the call of the water any longer.
Raising her arms above her head, she pulled her soft, green cotton t-shirt up and over her hair, creating a puff of fly-aways, followed by the white long-sleeved silk liner. The motionless air of the clearing kissed her skin, cool and refreshing; she felt her nipples rise in response and laughed, her head coming back. She was thankful for the foresight to wear a black sports bra; nothing too telling, to startle poor Snap.
Her hands went to the button of her shorts, when she heard more rustling behind her. She stopped, turning, and saw a tall man approaching her, seemingly alone, carrying a one-man kayak and wearing a camel-pack on his back.
His dark hair was wet with sweat from the effort of climbing to the cirque; his eyes hidden by sunglasses, she could not see his expression, but tanned skin suggested that he was accustomed to the outdoors. On his chest, he wore a light-weight button up shirt over a thin tank top to protect his skin from sun and the rubbing of the kayak; on his legs, he wore water-resistant hiking shorts and dual-purpose river shoes. His shoulders were broad and as he nearly a foot taller than she, it made her nervous to see him approach so quickly.
"Hello?" she said, her hand going to her pocket where she kept her utility knife.
The man stopped, raising his sunglasses to rest on top of his head so that he could see her properly. He propped the end of the kayak against him, laying the opposite end on the ground to rest. "Hey there," he replied, sucking on his camel pack. "What's up?"
"I wasn't expecting company up here," she said slowly, her hand not moving from her knife.
The man nodded, his eyes off of her and onto the water, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Yeah," he said, "Its one of those places that you don't go to see crowds. I'm guessing you must have charmed Rick into telling you about it."
"Rick?"
"Yeah, he works down at Pelee Inn, as the hike-master. He doesn't usually let people come up here though," He reached into one pocket, and she froze, hand pulling the knife from her own hiding place.
"Whoa, settle down hon!" He drew out a pair of waterproof gloves, tossing them on the ground between them for her to see. "He's my brother. We're the only two who ever come up here. It's a dangerous hike, and it's too nice to see tourists ruin it. So, you must have really charmed the socks off of him."
She blushed, lowering her hand so that the knife was no longer brandished at him. "We just chatted a bit. I was telling him about this hike I did when I was in Little Cayman through the jungle, when I nearly picked up a snake to make a walking stick, and I think he felt sorry for me after that." She giggled at herself, still blushing.
He knelt, eyes still on her and the knife, picking up his gloves. "Well, whatever you did, it worked. And you're here now. You planning on hiking the circle, because honestly hon, it's gonna be some rough terrain. Lotsa gravel; you're gonna slip and get wet or hurt. Not enough of a trail to make it worth it."
"I was actually thinking of swimming over to the dam across the way," she replied, knife returning to her pocket as she expressed her plan to someone other than herself and Snap. "The scenery here is beautiful, and the water should be warm enough that I can make it before I get too cold... I'm guessing around 70 degrees, which is completely manageable for short periods of time. It's clear, too, so I can see that there's nothing like glass or metal to worry about cutting myself on. And ..."
She stopped, noticing that he was staring at her, mouth hanging open. "What?"
"You were gonna swim in the cirque?"
"Sure. I love swimming. I'm good at it. And I can always pull myself out and warm up on a rock; the sun's warm enough." She shrugged. "Why?"
"No wonder he fell in love with you."
She blushed again, this time raising an eyebrow and rubbing her hand over her frizzy pony-tail unthinkingly. "Yeah, my tolerance for cold water in the pursuit of new places is pretty amazing," she quipped.
