Sitting On A Damp Tree

I became aware, after only a few moments, of the backs of my eyelids... the color of deep glowing red with pockets of lighter and darker patches, like skin sometimes gets in the cold. Behind my eyelids the red glow became the sounds... all of them together. I could feel dusty cabins close by, trees standing above me, the crisp bite of 9500 feet and crunchy snow and scientist solar panels and gold pans and firefighters' hands and ice puddles and squeaky cast iron stoves and smoky sweaters and dirty finger nails and tasty minerals and pine needles sitting and brittle wool socks and clean water and lean air and tattered topographic maps.