16 degrees, she laughed, stepping out of several layers of clothes and slipping behind a tree. The tree smiled, dropped a few leaves and looked the other way. The sun waxed lyrically, sang to the sky and blushed in the early light. The grass paused. It’s only natural, remarked the mountain. Forms in forms, light and shadows, nothing more, nothing less. Oh there’s more, tittered the tree, I can feel her breast.