By the time they reached Logan’s tree, Diana had lost all sense of time and proportion. The sun hovered eight feet off the ground, a tiger’s eye gemstone that shafted tines of light between tree trunks, which pulsed orange wherever they were touched. She was an insect suspended in amber as Logan clipped her into a harness, tied knots, and checked the gear with firm tugs. He was talking all the while, explaining how to climb, but amber suffused her ears, her throat, her mind. She was a wordless creature that existed before time, outside of time, in no time. She watched him from this new and wonderfully wordless place, as he coiled the connecting rope over his shoulder and hopped off the ground into the climbing stance. He pulled the rope, and it hoisted him a short distance, then he pulled
