Karen Conrad followed the small, winged creature with her eyes. It landed on a small, exposed patch of skin just below the knee. It’s wings fluttered as it settled in. She waited, raising her hand slowly.

It stung.

SLAP. The mosquito was dead.

“That’s disgusting!”

Karen turned to see her husband, Mark thundering up the trail, rocks flying from beneath his hiking boots. Looking down at her leg, he scowled. “Couldn’t you have just flicked it off? Now you’re going to have bug guts on your leg all day.”

Karen rolled her eyes, grabbed a leaf and mopped up what was left of the insect. “Flicking doesn’t make them go away.” She made a point to look him directly in the eye. “Death is the only permanent solution.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. He seemed about to respond when a screech made him look skyward. Karen followed his gaze. A hawk flew low overhead, dipping its wings. Mark raised the camera slung around his neck and snapped a few dozen shots.

Karen rose from her perch on the rock and walked to a stream. Cupping her hands, she dipped them into the cool water and brought it to her face, smoothing the liquid over the skin of her neck and upper back. She took a deep breath and gazed at the open expanse of blue sky. It was so peaceful on the trail. The only sounds were the chirping of the birds, the murmur of the water and….

 “What are you doing, Karen? That water is dirty!”

The bellowing of the husband.

Karen looked up to see Mark standing over her, eyebrows knitted together in a frown of disapproval.

“Weren’t you taking pictures?” Karen huffed, standing up and shaking out her hands. Small droplets of water appeared on the front of Mark’s green T-shirt.

He jumped back as though sprayed with acid. “I hope you didn’t drink it.”

Karen forced herself to take a deep breath. “Yeah, I did. Want to make out?”

Mark shook his head but said nothing.

“Hey look, a robin.” Karen pointed to a low-hanging tree branch.

Mark was off again, clicking away.

If he hadn’t taken up the hobby, I’d never get any peace.

She watched as he stooped to grab a fistful of small, yellow flowers. When she caught up with him, he surprised her by thrusting them into her hand, a wide grin on his face. He looked out through the lens of his camera. “Smile.”

Karen found the corners of her mouth twitching in spite of herself. She stepped back, holding the flowers up, ignoring the dirt falling from the still dangling roots.

“Move to the left a little,” Mark said. She shuffled over. He held out his hand indicating she should stop. She smiled, posing again.

“No, wait. Don’t smile so stiffly, Karen. Just smile.”

Karen sighed and tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace.

“That’s it now lean in a little. No. Not that much. Wait. Okay. There, okay, move over about a foot. No. To the right. Your other right!”

Karen looked like she was doing some sort of interpretive dance. “Oh, for crying out loud!”

“Why do you always have to lean in like….”

“Oh Mark, just go shoot something you don’t have to direct!” Karen cried, tossing the flowers at him.

She let him get way ahead of her this time, preferring the quiet. A couple of moths fluttered by and she watched them chase each other. When they alighted on a bush, Karen stopped to watch.

She didn’t see the dark, slithering shape until it was almost touching the toe of her low-top sneakers. Karen stared, rooted to the spot. The snake darted to the left as a large, hulking shadow moved over the bush. Karen felt something crash into her shoulder and the next minute, she was air born, the view rushing sideways as she flew. She hit the earth with a hard ‘thud’, her elbow cracking painfully on a sharp rock.

“Oh my God!” Mark cried.

Karen pulled herself into a sitting position and brushed the hair from her eyes. “It’s okay, Mark. It was just a garter sn….”

She stopped mid-sentence, mouth falling open as she watched her husband crouch low, raising the camera to his face.

Leaning forward, he placed one hand on the ground to steady himself and clicked the shutter.

Standing, he strode over and extended a hand to his still-prostrate bride. Too stunned to refuse, she let him help her to her feet.

“Take a look at this,” he said, showing her the LCD screen. “I can frame this one!”

Karen checked her elbow. A line of blood peeked out through jagged, dry skin. She wiped it away.

“You alright?”

“Oh, now you ask!”

“What? I got you out of the way didn’t I?”

She lunged forward palms outstretched and shoved him hard. He rocked backward on his heels and let out an amused chuckle. Then, he put his arm around her neck and half-walked, half-dragged her down the rest of the inclining slope.

An hour later, as they neared the end of the trail, Mark gained the lead while Karen trailed lazily behind. The throbbing in her shoulder had finally subsided and Karen was once again enjoying the day outdoors. When they came upon a dogwood tree, she stopped to enjoy the heady fragrance. Picking a few of the cherry-red blossoms, she tucked them behind her ear.

Overall, it hadn’t been that bad of a day.

“I really don’t think those flowers goes with that shirt.”

Karen jumped and turned. Mark’s hairy face was only inches from hers, his thick eyebrows knit close together like two caterpillars.

She gaped at him. Then, letting out a sound somewhere between a screech and a growl, she stalked away, cursing and muttering to herself.

 Mark stared at her retreating backside in confusion.

“Something I said?”