Nature’s Rhythms

Sharon stared for what felt like a long time as she tried to figure out what was happening to the heaped figures in the long grass. They weren't moving very much, but the noises they were making were strange. The woman's knees were pointing upwards in the air and Sharon wondered if she might have fallen over.

"Daddy. What are they doing?"

His feet padded up the rest of the hill and stopped beside her. "Should we help them?" Sharon looked up at her Dad's face and saw it loosen as his mouth parted.

"No. Let's go back to the path."

"What are they doing?"

"Nothing. Come on, why don't we go and help Mummy with the sausages?"

He led her away by the shoulder, but not before Sharon twisted her head round for a last look. The figures were starting to groan and their bodies moved in a way that reminded her of the steam train ride they had gone on the day before.

The wind moved through the grass and swayed the trees at the bottom of the hill. Suddenly, Sharon felt nauseous as the world rocked and swayed about her in inexplicable ways. Then a view of the campsite filtered through the leaves of the trees and Sharon couldn't wait to run across its grassy humps and watch sausages sizzle over charcoal.