Silent At Sunset - Short Piece

I walked down the street, silent at sunset save for the wind whipping over a rounded series of granite teeth nearby. Some pussywillows bobbed in the blond eventide. Not a soul was around. It felt like I really was at the edge of the world, sea-wind blowing from the source, unseen around the next bend, over the next mesa, beyond the stone islands. The street curved, forked, and a forest greeted me, the tall alder and birch on a bed of moss. Things feel so primal here, so raw and rich - it's hard to imagine something so pure until you feel that cold air brushing your cheeks, and the murmer of the trees all around. It's as if the world here is older, but fresher. I wish I could scoop it into my hands and take it back home. Instead I open my eyes, breathe it in, and try to imagine how I will imagine this later.