_{It's a beautiful summer day} in the forest. Our SUV bumps along what seems like a never-ending road of dirt and rock. My teeth chatter in my skull as we crawl slowly closer to the campsite. I love camping. It gets me away from the crowds and the heat and the noise of the city. I can’t understand why anyone would decide to make Phoenix their home, but apparently, my parents love it.

Not-so-patiently, I wait for us to arrive at our destination. Alexa is screaming in her car seat. Her ears are sensitive to the change in pressure. I try to console her, but mostly I'm just annoyed. Between us sits my best friend in the whole world. Her name is Zoe. I pet her soft, white, curly fur and try to zone out my sister's wailing. Soon I will be with the Trees.

After what seems like an eternity, we finally roll into our home for the weekend. It's a cute little space with a fire pit in the middle. We are densely surrounded by the tall, cone filled Ponderosa Pine Trees native to the area. Already I can hear birds singing their evening songs, calling their families home. I see a squirrel and a chipmunk squabbling over a nutty delicacy. I smell the crisp mountain air and the sharp woody perfume of the Trees.

I am home.

As my parents work to unload the car, I wander off to find firewood close by. It’s my favorite camping chore. I hunt to find the best sticks. Dry and light enough to carry in my arms. Soon I find myself with more than I can carry. I stumble awkwardly towards the campfire, dropping my load. My arms and legs are scratched up, but I barely notice.

When I return, Mom and Dad have started on the tent. Their tradition of arguing and screaming at each other has begun. Mom berates Dad. Dad sarcastically snaps back at her. I hate it when they fight. When I communicate this, Mom always responds, "we aren't fighting, we're just bickering." I feel uncomfortable and sad. Why do they hate each other so much? This thought bounces around my brain as I fall into a dreamless sleep.

The Sun rises as I slowly open my eyes. I am the first one awake. My excitement grows with every second. As I wait for everyone else to get up, I fantasize about what creatures I might find in the forest. After breakfast I beg Mom to let me wander, but she quickly says no. "It's easy to get lost in the forest" she says. I don't agree, but unfortunately, she’s the one in charge.

Soon her and Dad are at it again, fighting over some small, meaningless thing. I can't take it anymore. I pat Zoe on the head and whisper, "I'm going 'sploring. Don't tell Mom and Dad." I place my tiny five-year-old finger to my lips in a shushing motion as I instruct my pup to keep quiet and stay put.

With a quick look back to make sure I am not noticed, I begin my journey into the wild magic of the forest. Deeper into the woods I go. The Trees becoming denser with every step. They loom over me like standing giants. I feel no fear. They mean me no harm. They love me. They’ve always loved me.

I feel no fear. They mean me no harm. They love me. They’ve always loved me.

As I crown a small hill, I see the most beautiful, majestic Tree I've ever laid eyes on. She is massive. She sits in the middle of the clearing like a God, and I suppose she is in her own way. She is a Mother Tree. This has been her home for a very long time. As I take her in, a sad yet hopeful thought comes into view, “I wish she could be my mom. Maybe I can become a Tree too.”

With tired legs I crouch to sit beneath Mother Pine. I rest my tense back against her rough bark. It scratches through my shirt, but I don't mind one bit. The sensation connects me to her. The smell of sharp pine needles, and sweet butterscotch scented bark wafts through the air. I breathe deeply, greedily inhaling the intoxicating sent.

I reach out to lay a tiny hand on her trunk. Touching her feels miraculous. Her Tree magic courses through me with every breath I take. I whisper to her in my soft little voice, "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you exist. Thank you." These are the only words I say allowed to her. We don't need to speak. She communicates using the ancient language of the Trees. Somehow, I can speak it too.

Suddenly, I am pulled out of my trance by panicked shouts in the distance. Its Mom. She is frantic. I begrudgingly push myself up off the ground. Before I depart, I wrap my tiny arms around Mother Pine as best I can. Silently hugging her, I thank her for her time, for her love. I promise to visit again soon. With much resistance, I turn towards the sounds of the screams and start walking.

"I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you exist. Thank you."

Halfway back to camp I hear rustling in the bushes. My heart flutters a bit, but only for a second. It’s just Zoe. She always finds me. I love her for that. Tail wagging, she leads me the rest of the way back to our campsite. Back to reality. Mom is still yelling my name. I hear Dad now too. I finally see a break in the trees. I spot the gray and orange tent gleaming in the rays of the setting sun. I smell the smoky fire, and bear witness to its raging flames. Its crackles sound like laughter.

I see mom and dad running towards me. Mom is instantly yelling at me. “You scared me to death!” she shouts. After the scolding, and the guilt trip, comes the sigh of relief. She makes me promise never to wander off again. I promise, but I don't mean it. She is demanding to know why I left the campsite. My answer is a simple one:

I wanted to go 'sploring.