#418712 - I stood, quivering, with my eyes squeezed shut, my back to him. Tripping along the crooked, moss-cushioned, ancient logging trail, a basket of bread and butter and jam swinging gaily from my loosely clenched fingers, I felt at peace and at one with everything around me. With the last beams of sun still beating down on me, I grew warm, and forgetting about proper modesty and I took off my heavy dress and stockings, and sat, with my knees pulled up against my chest and my toes in the water, in my white cotton undergarments, breathing in the scent of nature, listening to the birds and the toads, touching my arms to feel my sun-warmed skin.
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