Shoshone National Forest: A Short Story

As I walked outside and smelled the refreshing scent of pine and heard the chipper calls of the birds I knew I was home. I’ve been living as a fire lookout in the lush green forests of Shoshone National Forest for about three months now. Everyday I get to look out from my tower and see all of the exquisite beauty in the area.
Towards the north there are the skyscraping mountains. Where the occasional tourist ventures to go hiking on the angelic, yet perilous, trails that spiral up the mountain. To the south I see a profound canyon that stretches from the east to the west. Legend has it, that once a year in the dead silence of the night, you can hear the rumbling of the canyon slowly expanding in size. When I look towards the east, way
I scampered around looking for shelter as the rain started to pitter patter against the forest floor. But almost as if by a miracle I stumbled upon a cave that had been made in the base of the mountain just as a tremendous lightning strike and thunder convulsed all around me. In the process of diving into the cave’s opening I scraped my forearm against the coarse dry ground of the cave and filled my mouth with the taste of old gritty earth, however, despite my injuries and horrid taste in my mouth I was safe from the storm.
I was in the cave for what seemed to me like an eternity, but eventually the storm cleared up and left the fresh scent of rain and dirt surrounding me in a calming aura. After I was sure it was safe for me to exit my safe haven I was astounded by the sight that was before my eyes. A vibrant rainbow stretched across the bright blue sky, truly a spectacle to behold.
Eventually I came out of my flashback and found myself standing in the dew soaked earth at the base of my tower. With my head held high and my mind at ease I think to myself, “It’s nice to be