The answer? I knew I would definitely mess it up. I would not be able to balance that chemical equation. But maybe I could find some bits of wisdom things in there, loosening the restrictions. Just hopefully no more loosening of the critical bits holding my foot to my leg.

I unwrapped the red and white checkered paper and took a bite; the puffin surfaced. I swallowed; the jellyfish floated. Cobbled rocks rolled down the beach with outgoing waves and they made a song without melody - percussion only. The soft kind of clatter that smoothes edges over years instead of days.

So I was kissing spruce on the rugged, ancient path. Trying to find my footing with a mouth full of conifer. Deciding this was the taste of green, were it to have a flavor. With an extra hint of brine given the inescapable ocean always industrious down below. Taking in the landscape with my eyes and my mouth.