Bat Camp

At dusk, bats fly in and out of the trees catching insects. We talk of bats and tell our woodland stories that are populated by people, a fox and deer, a shaman and a sorcerer. Firelight flickers and draws lines as darkness descends. Some of us sleep in hammocks, others on the ground. Stars sit quietly above us. Bats chatter. Early in the morning, one of us watches them skitter around. We rekindle the fire and toast homemade bread in its heat before wandering through brambles and tall bracken, along awkward stream banks beneath immense trees, the air thick with pollen but fly free.