1965 Ford Mustang

A gleam arises in the distance to the north-east of my body. The sun slowly creeping its way into the sky showing the trees wiggling in the morning gusts. Though the light illuminates the world and makes it shine, I find that mine has faded. The rust that settled under my paint has left speckles of teal on the forest floor. Some of it has been scattered by the wind and now settles underneath twigs and dead leaves. My lights are foggy, my tires worn, and my innards are torn and leaking fluff. I think one of my handles is loose as well. I have a broken right headlight that has been smashed in by a fallen branch. A dent from the same branch resides concaved above the socket and my mirror that once assisted the people inside me to see, now rests on the forest floor. Though it broke me, it first had been broken.

At least, I have the warmth to look forward to now and the beauty of the colors in the distance; before those change to blue. On occasion, there’s bits of white blobs that float through. I find that I can relate to that. The sky too has its innards exposed, although I do not know where they go or why they are moving. For now, I just want to enjoy the pinks, yellows, oranges and reds that linger with the soft blue above.

They nearly match the colors of the leaves, except the brown ones, although I find I like the way the other colors fall onto them. Unsettling in a way, but it’s fascinating and my favorite part of this season. I’ve only been here to witness this a few times, so when it comes around, I’m eager for it. In the spring, I love watching the trees rebloom, especially after decrepit winter spikes that the leaves leave behind. The only relief is the white specks that fall around me and leave me buried in the cold. Now, I know I said I love the heat, but the cold is nice too. It’s different from the boring mundane temperate weather that I am forced to reside in. I find that I appreciate this difference, since I have no human passengers to keep warm, so I don’t mind it too much. Still, I prefer the sun for drying out my cushions after some rainfall.

The weirdest part of having been left in the wilderness is the little bugs that have made a home out of me. Sometimes smaller mammals nestle into me too. Their size makes it nearly impossible to notice them, except the times when the sun hits my windows just right do I notice the spider's webs. They don’t shake me like people do. Though I cannot see any spider, they leave me with that sentiment. The hornets on the other hand were noticeable and loud. My engine now has six separate nests that swarm around my hood. Sometimes the honey leaks out and drips down into the gears. I’d care about the stickiness if the gears still worked, but they haven’t for years now. One year a squirrel came in through the broken window and popped open my glove box. Perhaps, looking for nuts or a place to store them. Anyway, the squirrel left and never came back, but one bird rested its talons on my open window space while another brought twigs and placed them on the glove boxes’ door. I wonder how they managed to avoid the bits of broken glass extruding from the sides. The little bits on the floor gave no relevance to them, or me for that matter. They came inside of me with more twigs and sometimes bits of dirt or other debris they found. One of them laid eggs and the other left in search of food. Eventually the eggs hatched and there were little noisy chirps coming from me. The last time I chirped, it was when some vandal had taken a crowbar to my driver's side door. Those were a bit different. In fact, that’s the last time I remember being driven.

It was dark. There weren't many people out on the roads. Three men hopped into the seats one of them smoking a cigarette. They were boasting about what a sweet ride they had just hitched. Swerving me over the double white lines like I was just some object for reckless driving. They spit yellowish snot out of their filthy mouths and turned into a wooded area. The distance from any discernable roads faded into the background and I no longer knew which way was which. I doubt they really knew themselves. When we came to a halt with a massive amount of pressure put on my brakes, they turned off my engine and exited me. These weird little lights were in their hands, and they wandered into the forest, I think, looking for something. I'm not sure they ever found it as they never returned to find me. I sat there waiting for those three men to return, but instead I sat there in darkness, never to look upon another human being. Even when I try to remember what my owner looked like, I can't.

Now, I rest and settle into the dirt below me. The sun at its perfect point in the sky, just above the open crevasse at the forest peak. I hope the animals have taken a liking to it like I have.