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Grass,
originally uploaded by Marusula.

The rough grassed tickled the back of my hand, as I lay, stretched out on my stomach on an old yoga mat dug out of the back of my car. It was Monday morning, after breakfast. I was determined to squeeze every last moment of relaxing out of the final few hours of camp. A book lay ignored, upside down and open next to my elbow. A slice of my back was exposed to the sun and air, between the waistband of my jeans and the bottom of my tank top. The breeze drifted by and touched this stretch of skin, and in that instance, all my awareness was centralized in that one spot. The rest of my body did still exist, but it was extra, I was ALIVE where the wind had made contact. That sensation lasted another moment, but with my next full breath, I expanded back into my fingers and toes, nose and pores, happy to be in this body, in this light and in that field.