Sabbatical

We drove away from the world for a day. Away from the harsh glare of freeway billboards. Away from the perpetual hum of filtered, conditioned air. Away from trimmed lawns, from dusted tabletops. Away from right-angled envelopes and right-angled walls and right-angled spreadsheets on right-angled LCDs.

To a backdrop unblemished by try-squares or straightedges. And we danced in the dappled sunlight. Ran our fingertips across century-old bark. Sprung from decaying stumps to soar momentarily in the sky.

Never before had the air been more cleansing, than at the moment we rushed through it. Never before had the ground felt more alive, than at the moment we landed on it.

We forgot our spreadsheets that day, under a mossy canopy of spindly limbs, watching a single dusky cardinal blush amidst denuded twigs.