L E A P [if you're in L O V E]

It's a magical place to feel in love out here. I would like to bring every person that I love to my special rock and look at the views with them, one by one. And right now it feels like I love a lot of people, so I'm wondering if there would even be enough time.

I would like to pedal side, by rickety side with you along perfect surfaced roads lined by vast depths of mystical forests. With speckles of sun making their way to the forest floor, we'd keep our eyes alert looking for leaping wild animals. We'd see deers and hopping bunnies and plenty of red squirrels, if we were really lucky we'd see some moose. We could slide off our saddles for a moment and walk along narrow paths to find the rusty well, and we'd take it in turns to pump our own fresh water to quench our cycling thirst. We'd dare the bicycles to keep their vague forms to allow us to explore further and we'd find natural bays with platforms of slowly eroded granite. The water of the Baltic would be shining so much we'd have to squint our eyes out to sea; and point out to each other when a distant sailing boat would flutter past the horizon or wonder what things we'd find on all of the miniature islands working their way across our lucky visions.

We'd leap off a moss bank into the cool depths of green and splash away the beads of sweat + dirt temporarily covering our exploring skin, we'd glide through the water and maybe feel faint tickles from cheeky fish that would be smiling their way around our ankles, occasionally jumping for joy because their home is such a nice place. When we got tired, we could put lots of hand chopped wood into the Sauna and wait for it to hit 70. We'd sit cross legged + wait for that familiar trickle to work its way down our spines. We could talk if we wanted to, or we could listen to the crackling of the fire and the fizz of the water exploding in a cloud of steam when we ladle a spoon of it onto the scolding hot rocks. And as we emerge from another plunge of that cooling sea, with faint bellows of steam still lifting from our shoulders, we'll not feel healthier or more alive, or happy. We could slowly warm up again resting our backs against the hot boulders who worship the sun from the moment it comes up, clink an ice cold beer and look at each other's rosy cheeks, feeling a distant gleeful fatigue in our legs which had done so much adventuring.

And after dinner which we could cook on a fire, we'd maybe go rowing in Malone 3 ¾. We'd have all the time we wanted, knowing that it would never get dark enough to peer where we're chugging and we could wait for the light to change between crimsons, whispering + wondering if the northern lights were getting close.

I really can't wait for you to come leap with me here.