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I like the smell of camping—when you go to sleep bundled in old thermals and hoodies under cool air and a dark sky. When you awake to a new, crisp air that forces the glaze in your eyes to become small tears. I like when my hair smells like bonfire and I can set marshmallows aflame to watch the smooth white transform to a brilliant orange and deep black, then quickly blow them out—a crunchy charcoal exterior but a melted, gooey-sweet core. I like messy hair and ballerina buns and pony tails. Collecting stones and seashells and taking photos. I like cooking outside and watching smoke pipe through the sky. I like trail mix and warm coffee. I like kisses when my nose is cold and kitten pink and I like to cuddle up when it’s freezing. I like wading through creeks and playing truth or dare at midnight. Making burritos with spicy salsa for dinner. I like stories and flashlights and secrets.
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