The only sound I remember was the hiss of the camp stove with the smoke-stained bottom holding the aluminum pot as we waited for water to boil. We poured the hot water into our turquoise plastic camp mugs over Roastaroma tea bags. The tea scent of chicory and darkness didn’t overcome the smells of hardwood forest: leaf litter, rotting log, and some nearby pungent plant. She and I sat barely touching, feeling each other’s warmth, on feather-down sleeping bags over a tarp that rustled with each shift in position. We sipped the warm evening flavors, talking softly or not talking.
Julia Clebsch is a lesbian, feminist writer who focuses on the interaction of humans and nature through non-fiction and fictionalized memoir essays.