across the area. Sure, there were plenty of summer camps, cabins, and resorts, but there were also secluded hamlets, glorious summits and—if she could ever find one—waterfalls.
The canoe drifted nearer to a part of the shoreline that jutted outwards like a scraggly finger and Maeva stopped. She squinted at the rocks. It was an area her dad passed several times, saying there was nothing there but a dead end. She frowned, reaching for the paddle, ready to scoot around the outcropping of rock and continue further south when she saw something. She stopped, dipping her paddle into the water to slow the canoe. The last thing she needed was to scrape it against the rocks. The canoe slid from the shore for a second before Maeva caught sight of it. An owl perched in the branches of a sloping birch tree, almost completely camouflaged by dark green leaves. She scurried to the shore, anxious to get a better look at the majestic bird when it absconded the branch, slapping its brownish red wings against the wind. Her chest fell as she sighed. If there was one thing she hated about the forest it was timid animals. She glanced at the shore realizing too late she was docking against the rocks and stuck her paddle in just in time to save her canoe. Carefully she slowed, pulling the canoe closer until she safely hopped out and tie the boat ashore.
She angled herself so her foot was firmly on the rock and grabbed a skinny branch to brace herself as she stepped out of the canoe. She grabbed the rope and wound it around a single tree on the edge of the point. Looking behind her at the branches where the owl had sat, she smiled. This part of the forest wasn’t the same as it used to be. Sure, the point jutted out from the rest of the land and there was a large sapling spreading its branches everywhere on the edge of the point, but the trail obscured by fallen trees last summer was clear.
Maeva looked back at the canoe, perched solidly against the shore and made up her mind. Grabbing her backpack she took the gradual incline into the forest.
The path wasn’t straight and it wasn’t completely clear. She stepped over logs pressed against the ground, grass growing around them. She skipped over big rocks protruding from soil, common for the area. One part of the path was a giant mud puddle and she had to detour slightly to avoid stepping in it. Her legs brushed along foliage at her feet, branches nipping at the tight bun she fixed her hair in. She smelled the lake and heard waves lapping softly against the shore. She didn’t dare peek through the trees; she didn’t want to know how high she was until she had to.
Afternoon appeared. She recognized it by the position of the sun in the sky, though she only saw it through thin strips of sky between leaves. Some of them were already yellowing in preparation for autumn, her favorite season. She stopped to take another sip of water, noticing the bottle was almost empty. It was time to go home. Her stomach rumbled but she already ate a granola bar and wanted to save the rest. The survival kit was meant for survival not for snacking. As far as she could tell there was no emergency.
She climbed, her hands gripping large rocks as mud and grass disappeared. She pulled herself over one last boulder, landing on a stony plateau. On her left the trees continued to populate the forest, but they were thick, no way to forge a path through them. On her right they broke, showing off a magnificent blue sky, occupied by puffy white clouds. Maeva neared the edge, her breath catching in her throat. She glanced down, a straight cliff on the opposite edge of the curved rock, the lake lapping against the shore. She laughed, tilting her head to the sky and spreading her arms wide.
She dropped the pack and circled, pulling out her iPhone and clicking through the songs again. Adele was one of her favorites, but there were others she’d considered fantastic. Her thumb flicked over a song and she stopped, pressing
The canoe drifted nearer to a part of the shoreline that jutted outwards like a scraggly finger and Maeva stopped. She squinted at the rocks. It was an area her dad passed several times, saying there was nothing there but a dead end. She frowned, reaching for the paddle, ready to scoot around the outcropping of rock and continue further south when she saw something. She stopped, dipping her paddle into the water to slow the canoe. The last thing she needed was to scrape it against the rocks. The canoe slid from the shore for a second before Maeva caught sight of it. An owl perched in the branches of a sloping birch tree, almost completely camouflaged by dark green leaves. She scurried to the shore, anxious to get a better look at the majestic bird when it absconded the branch, slapping its brownish red wings against the wind. Her chest fell as she sighed. If there was one thing she hated about the forest it was timid animals. She glanced at the shore realizing too late she was docking against the rocks and stuck her paddle in just in time to save her canoe. Carefully she slowed, pulling the canoe closer until she safely hopped out and tie the boat ashore.
She angled herself so her foot was firmly on the rock and grabbed a skinny branch to brace herself as she stepped out of the canoe. She grabbed the rope and wound it around a single tree on the edge of the point. Looking behind her at the branches where the owl had sat, she smiled. This part of the forest wasn’t the same as it used to be. Sure, the point jutted out from the rest of the land and there was a large sapling spreading its branches everywhere on the edge of the point, but the trail obscured by fallen trees last summer was clear.
Maeva looked back at the canoe, perched solidly against the shore and made up her mind. Grabbing her backpack she took the gradual incline into the forest.
The path wasn’t straight and it wasn’t completely clear. She stepped over logs pressed against the ground, grass growing around them. She skipped over big rocks protruding from soil, common for the area. One part of the path was a giant mud puddle and she had to detour slightly to avoid stepping in it. Her legs brushed along foliage at her feet, branches nipping at the tight bun she fixed her hair in. She smelled the lake and heard waves lapping softly against the shore. She didn’t dare peek through the trees; she didn’t want to know how high she was until she had to.
Afternoon appeared. She recognized it by the position of the sun in the sky, though she only saw it through thin strips of sky between leaves. Some of them were already yellowing in preparation for autumn, her favorite season. She stopped to take another sip of water, noticing the bottle was almost empty. It was time to go home. Her stomach rumbled but she already ate a granola bar and wanted to save the rest. The survival kit was meant for survival not for snacking. As far as she could tell there was no emergency.
She climbed, her hands gripping large rocks as mud and grass disappeared. She pulled herself over one last boulder, landing on a stony plateau. On her left the trees continued to populate the forest, but they were thick, no way to forge a path through them. On her right they broke, showing off a magnificent blue sky, occupied by puffy white clouds. Maeva neared the edge, her breath catching in her throat. She glanced down, a straight cliff on the opposite edge of the curved rock, the lake lapping against the shore. She laughed, tilting her head to the sky and spreading her arms wide.
She dropped the pack and circled, pulling out her iPhone and clicking through the songs again. Adele was one of her favorites, but there were others she’d considered fantastic. Her thumb flicked over a song and she stopped, pressing
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