Floating

The fresh taste of mountain air is in our lungs and the reflections of stars in our eyes. My campers lay upon the cool grass, small bundles of soft fabric. Warm acoustic floats through the air, a velvety blanket amidst the darkening night. The sky is not yet an absolute black. Through its icy blue, twinklings of a brilliant sky are unfolding. We are drifting through the stars, suspended by husky voices and gentle guitar chords. The song ends, gliding away into nothingness. I ask what it made them think of, some are already asleep. Then, I play the next song.