AMERICAN BEAUTY MINERAL MAKEUP

Anna Marie was three when her mother was burnt. She had long since left the caravan's smokey fires and forest camps all behind. Her dark hair had grown long and her skin was as brown as the earth upon which she walked every day. This morning her eyes drifted lazily over the scene of a green pasture, its frost thawing in the strengthening light. She lifted her hands to her mouth and began to blow deep breaths of warm air into them, all the time her dark eyes staring out over her hands and onto the valley and its river below.

Midday and she was certain her feet were stronger than ever. Smiling at how they felt in the cool mountain pool she dipped each toe in thoughtfully her dark eyebrows lifting and with each toe a little more joy fluttered to her heart. She had decided there and then that she had the world in her arms. Lifting her dress in her hands she stood and began to dance her wet footprints painting the dry boulder underfoot.

In a sheltered spot between two boulders she untied the knot at the top and began to lay flat each corner of her bandana. Within each fold of faded cloth were small holes and clumps of dirt. There was a toothpick which she quickly took up into her mouth and beagn chewing as she continued to look over her things. There was a polaroid with a tear in its upper half. The photograph was of a girl sat on a mountain peak. She sat with it in her hand awhile, periodically looking out over the valley below her and then back at the polaroid. In her lap where her bandada lay there was still a box of matches, a half smoked marijuana cigarette, a cheap tube of toothpaste and her toothbrush with its handle snapped off. She held the photograph for a long time.

Even though the day was warm the shade in the pine forest was still cool and she stopped twice to warm her hands and check the sun for direction on the way down the hill. The second time she stopped she removed her shawl from her napsack and wrapped herself in it. By the time she had reached the edge of the large field with the barn in one corner the wind had started to make the forests roof sway. She suddenlly felt quite unsure walking out across the open field. It was as if leaving the protection of the rocks and forest was an acknowledging of something new.

The dogs had long before begun to howl having probably seen her from the small ledge she had gained a lookout from earlier on in the day. Knowing she was now close they hummed and screeched into a crecendo of pitching laughter and sharp barks. By the time she had reached the far wall of the barn and begun to speak to them in approval of their presence, asking for their forgiveness, they had started to gnaw with their mouths wide open, upon the metal chains that coiled around their necks.

Anna Marie knew that no farmer would be out at this time of year, their barns having long since been closed up for winter and if she could keep out of the storm, her night would be pleasant enough.The dogs finally settled themselves to a slow pacing and a lazy growl.

By and by she had learnt to keep her eyes about her and after some searching found a space under the leading ramp to the barn. If she slept in a slight upright position she thought she would only have to keep her legs half bent to stay dry. As the rain began Anna Marie was reminded of her brother and how he would sit whittling a new piece of wood most nights round the fire, the sound of the drops hitting the ramp above her head making much the same sharp cutting noise as a knife slicing through wood.

She woke sometime later and it was dark. In her hand she felt the polaroid. She held the photograph for a long while rubbing her thumb along its worn out edges. Finally she reached into her coat pocket and removed a loose match. Feeling the cold wall at her side she carefully placed the matches head against it and with a sharp pull, tugged at the match. The flame sparked her cupped hands into light and steadily she drew the match back to her lap. The flame twirled and from it shone a golden light that fell over the polaroid. Anna Marie then watched with joy as the girl on the mountain peak began to slowly move, her dress crumpling at its side, her hair lifting in the mountain breeze, her hands rising to her sides and in an instance it seemed she was on her feet and suddenly dancing with all the world below her.

"Fire...and Water... I love, love, love the flickering of a roaring hot campfire...the way it crackles and snaps...burns slowly than quickly almost teasingly through the wood..making the colorful sparks dance up and down, side to side...forcing the smoke swirling like a wind tunnel around your head..the occasional sting as it burns your eyes only ever so slightly till salty tears blink them clear again..but then again I love water too...I adore the cool still dampness of the air around it..it's flowing gentleness and surprising powerfullness as it bounces forcefully off the rocks hidden deep down below and it's wonderfully sweet swishy sounds, how it soothes, refreshes, seemingly speaks soft words to your very soul...and being out in the crisp warm summer air...as it gently blows over your face with its invitingly intriguing new smells that makes you almost have to stop a moment... remembering to catch your breath and ...oh...curling my toes in the damp freshly grown grass....the rustling of the wind through the newly budded trees...

All a day like this needs is a carefully constructed sturdy campfire, two icy cold freshly opened belgian beers, a pair of succulently thick hearty cuts of steak, slightly marbled but deeply marinated ready to singe to that perfect medium rare campfired up tasty well-seasoned goodness....and there is absolutely no sense of time or anyplace to be or to go.... all the time in the world seems to have just stopped....as we now lay alone...intertwined out under the shimmer of the just past dusk stars, with the crickets chirping loudly almost laughing mockingly at us for very very noisily staying up late.....once again...to watch the full moon slowly usher in the morning; dew slowly decending down on the top of the tent like a veil over the earth...quietly bringing in the next lazily wonderful day....and equally if not more enjoyably sweet night...

*Heavy Sigh*...I think I need a vacation!? Oh and a DAMN good boyscout to get that fire started...and he should probably be an water elemental......to keep me from singeing off my eyebrows.....more importantly from burning down the whole damn forest....where -oh- where is Smokey the Bear...when you need him?? ;-)