There are few things in the world I enjoy more than a long, hot, shower the morning after a bonfire. The morning when you haven't yet forgotten the heat of the flames on your face, but the memory of that heat is suddenly coupled with the cold of the tile floor infusing into you through bare feet. I love the way I can smell the left over smoke sliding out of my hair and fusing with the water, defusing in the steam and filling the room.
I love crawling back into bed for a bit after that shower and that my thermometer reads 101 because the sun is so intense in the window. At night I watch the stars rise in the same place as the sun sinks behind the mountains. I remember frozen nights at the bio reserve, wondering about the existance of black matter, I remember lying on rice mats with Him in the spring beside the Chapel, sitting secretly and silently, just being. And I remember our first New Years eve together. Absolutely frigid, pressing our bodies together inside a cocoon of blankets. I smile and ache a bit at these memories.