hiking the accotink trail

while hiking in the woods
for three miles
with joan, who carries a knife
on her belt
and speaks fluent apache,
she yells out frantically
and points into the trees,
oh my god, she says.
look at that maple tree.
look at the beauty and splendor
of those leaves.
i catch my breath,
scrapping mud of my
florshiem shoes and say,
which one is that?
that one, the one with the
reddish leaves.
I still don't see it.
between the pines and the oak
trees. i squint into
the direction where she's
pointing. the one with the squirrel
on it or the one with all
those Budweiser cans under it?
no no. neither of those.
over there. right there.
she goes over to the tree
and puts her arms around it.
this one. oh. yeah. nice, I
say. hey watch out, there
might be fire ants or sap
on that tree. she hugs it
even more, closing her eyes
and smiling. maybe you two
should get a room,
or something, I tell her.
suddenly she starts making loud
whooping sounds. whooo whooo,
she yells out, cupping her
hands to her mouth.
what are you doing, I ask
her. you might attract rabid
raccoons to our position.
my obamacare hasn't kicked in
yet. i'm talking to that
owl. see it. it's right
up there on that high branch.
he's watching us. see the way
his head swivels. sure. I tell her.
sure. I give the owl a wave.
hey, by any chance is there
a starbucks nearby,
like maybe on the other
side of that creek?
I could really use a cup of joe,
and a morning bun.