I'm perched in an old boat; it's ancient yet trustworthy. I can feel the rough wood of the vessel in my hands. It's not too soft or too hard, perfect for recreational use. I'm drifting down a peaceful tributary of the Amazon River. Above me is the canopy of the towering, yet not terrorizing, trees. I see specks of sunlight trickling through the crisp leaves. The murky water is given light, which makes the minuscule fish vaguely visible.
The lower trunks of the trees are overcome by blossoming flowers. I feel indecent because of my casual clothing; for the flower's petals don such formal wear. The thriving vines form a curtain for the flower's fantastic play. Butterflies flutter from every petite flower to those rooted by powerful stems. The charming butterflies are not all the generic orange ones, though. No, these butterflies are maroon, turquoise, emerald, amber, and plum. The insects fly with ease and elegance as they dance away to another flower. I can see larger fish in the water now. They look as though they're flying. I wonder if they were taught by the butterflies. One leaps out of the water, making the water splash and trickle back off the boat. A gust of wind propels its way through the leaves. The wind is refreshing in the humid weather, and the sound of rustling leaves is relaxing. I look back down at the water and stretch my arm out to let it hang down below the row boat. My hand disturbs the calm water, creating ripples. The water feels cold- not a piercing cold, but a chilly, almost refreshing cold. I let my arm dangle in the water as I gaze at the fish as they swim, curving their paths around the boat. The fish look like colorful needles pulling thread along behind them in an effort to make the water even more serene. Soon the fish speed their tailoring to rush away. I can only assume they are following the butterflies to explore another part of the boundless paradise. Now my only company is the flowers, and the creatures hiding in the lush forest, all too shy to greet me. I see the sun is settling further now, shining diagonally from behind the low clouds. The sunlight penetrates the humid air and reflects off of the droplets of water that have settled in the chinks of the humble boat. The humid air is so thick I can taste the earthy breeze on my tongue as I sigh.
I know I will have to leave and go back to civilization soon. I will have to leave this fantasy, but I don't want to. I start to get my paddle ready to row back to reality, glancing back one last time at the perfect scene. I hold my breath as I take in the warmth of the sun and think of how life can provide a place with very few blemishes. I turn forward to retreat back to my home, but a butterfly is gracious enough to pass in front of me one last time. Flapping its peach-pigmented wings at me, to express it wishes me farewell. A grin appears on my face as I paddle back to my home. The memory of the rainforest is stamped into my memory, never to fade away.
