It’s because it’s primal maybe, that the heat feels so good. To walk naked across the field, the air muffle-thick and buzzing, throbbing, pulsing with insects.

To feel tickle grass scratchings and the sting of nettles and gnats, the kiss of sun slide and sweat on bare skin. The anticipation of biscuit warm earth and mud coolth under bare feet stepping soft on sharp stones and smooth stones.

NakedWe swim in the clear river where in the always-shade a deep pool is sluiced tumbling between water washed rocks, where light dances green on the water through the dapple-leaves, where the black banks hide secrets and ferns tremble and copper spills at otter level and the water is ICE COLD and we get straight out. But it’s worth it for the scream on the skin, and the fizzing.