The wind, fierce and fretful, throws a tantrum among the trees.
The trail overlooks people's backyards. What do they think about the strange hikers who can peer into their windows at any time of day?
There is sweat on her upper lip, and her smile is blinding. She would prefer if you look at her smile and not at her eyes.
Leaves and loose rock underfoot. Gold spreading gloriously overhead.
All that's left of a home: two stone walls, roof tiles littering the ground, a chimney decaying like a tooth.
The river throws the sunlight off its back and into our eyes.
Learning the contours of a river from a train, a forest ridge, and two bridges.