Sitting here at the camp, I am feeling comfortable. I listen to the locusts singing. Accompanied by the country music coming from the camper.

I let my mind wonder to a place it wants to be. Enjoying the green of the woods. So many shades of green. The colors of autumn not yet sneaking in.

Surrounded by the strategically placed stones, the fireplace is beginning to crackle with life. The orange flames shooting up, contrasting the remaining dark of the logs. The white of the ashes are starting to form around the red coals underneath.

The dogs wander around never far from each other; never far from me. A quick whistle and they happily trot back.

The sun is starting to set. The sounds of the forest seem to come to life. The sounds of nocturnal movements ignored in the day.

Two pestering flies are the only annoyance. It's been a perfect summertime afternoon. Except for one thing.

You're not here.