“Chop! Chop! Kids! Let’s go!” Clapping his hands together like thunder my father’s orders rang through my ears once again. He’d said the same few words for the past ten minutes as we loaded the truck and prepared ourselves for the weekend. Frown lines were creasing his forehead, a result that I suspected was at the hands of the lack of coffee thrumming through his veins.

“Why are we rushing? It’s so early.” Evelyn whined as she stacked her duffel bag into the back of the truck.

Watching from the porch I turned to grandma and hugged her tightly. The faint smell of cigarettes and perfume pressed against me. “Bye grandma.” The morning air was crisp as it swirled around us. I fiddled with the ends of my pullover.

She ruffled my hair as I stepped away, “Be safe kiddo. I’ll be working on your new cardigan while you’re gone.” The rubber of her daisy rubber boots squeaked as she shifted her posture.

Happiness bloomed in my chest and I smiled so large it made my cheeks hurt, “I can’t wait to see it.”

Dad placed a hand on my shoulder, “Are you sure you’re going to be fine mom? One of us can stay home if you don’t feel comfortable running the farm while you’re gone.”

Her wrinkled eyes narrowed dangerously, “I’m 80, not 104. And I've been running this farm a lot longer than any of you. So shut it and go have fun on your trip.”

We were going camping. And for me it was going to be my first time ever, it would also be the first time I’d be leaving Bedlam and our closest neighbouring towns. Honestly, I’m still not sure why my parents decided to go camping, they just said last Sunday that we were going.

“Ok. Ok. I believe you.” He gruffly raised his hands in surrender before leading me to the truck.

So far I had no idea how I was going to do that with Evelyn next to me.

“Dad! Chop! Chop!” Evelyn yelled from the truck window, a smirk on her face as she did so.

The truck rumbled at a tempo similar to the flurry of feelings under my chest. I had stayed up much of the night furiously researching camping, it was such a human experience to finally have. They set up tents in the woods and ate over the fire, they hiked and watched wildlife. My eyes had glazed over websites and websites detailing tips and tricks of how to camp. From setting up the spokes on a tent to starting a fire or recognizing plant life, I learned it all.

Evelyn placed her bag in the space between us, the sides bulged from her stuffing the canvas backpack to the brim. Probably with blankets, I swear Evelyn collected blankets with the amount of them she had in her room. “Can you move your bag to the floor? Its pressing up against me.”

“What?” She pulled her headphones out aggressively. Upon me gesturing to her bag she shook her head, “It’s barely touching you.”

“You have your side and I have mine, so move your bag onto your side. It’s not that difficult.”

“No way, there’s already no space-”

Interrupting her my father’s stern voice warned, “Kids. Shut up. I don’t care about sides or space. Figure out your issues silently.”

Instead of continuing the argument I shifted as close to the door as I could and watched as the golden fields of my lovely Bedlam faded away into faraway hills in the rearview.

We unpacked the truck slowly, the fall air nipping at our uncovered fingers as we did. My parents set up theirs just beneath the shade of a looming tree, red leaves slipped onto the plastic and down to the short grass. I took the left side of the tent while Evie took the right.

“I’m going for a walk.” I said, my feet tugging me towards the trees as they were ready to put my newfound knowledge of forests to the test. Mom didn’t look up at me, her focus set on unpacking and organizing all the smaller items we had brought with us. She nodded, her brown hair had been pulled into a tight ponytail.

Taking my first steps onto the dirt trail, I recognized and referenced the different types of leaves and flowers to the wayside and the small footprints imprinted in the mud.

My gaze trailed upwards to the canopy, and immediately my steps stopped. Beneath the canopy’s shade all of the knowledge I had procured about forests and camping failed me. The rustling foliage reached out like fingertips aching to touch each other, ancient trees over moss-veiled trails and serene winds shook the outstretched hands.

Earth - this forest - was simple, and yet completely unknowable. I had spent those hours procuring newfound information but it all dwarfed in comparison. The scampering hares and drumming woodpeckers were like a song I wished I knew the lyrics to. Humans had this at their fingertips, pictures could scarcely describe it. I studied humans; I studied who they were, how they lived and breathed and thought but this, this was entirely unknowable.

And the thought send flurries of interest and confusion through me like knives. I stood under its immense gaze and I felt no larger than the tips of pine needles that slipped from evergreens.

From my knowledge I often encountered the reoccurring pattern of human’s beliefs in the finite. They created worlds in what was possible and rejected the impossible. But if I let my mind wander further and catching on the memories of my childhood…this would have wholly impossible. Absolutely unfathomable. I just wish…wish…

My lips curled into a unwanted frown which I compelled to fall away as I left the shady glades and allowed the sounds of slumbering saplings to fade away.

The campsite had been fully decorated when I returned. “How was your walk?” Mom inquired as she handed me a bowl of mac and cheese they had made.

“I-I really liked it, the forests are beautiful.”

As night time fell, the four of us rounded the small area for a campfire. We sat on logs and listened as the forest groaned around us. Evelyn wrapped herself tightly in a knit blanket grandma had made for her years ago. It was a mosaic of patterns and colours placed haphazardly on a white background.

We waited for dad to set the fire.