Breath Between the Pines

The mountain trail was quiet except for the crunch of gravel under their boots. Tessa walked slowly, one hand wrapped around her daughter Lily’s smaller one. Her husband, James, walked a few steps behind, carrying the thermos and trail mix, his usual weekend armor.

They hadn’t been here in over a year. Not since the anxiety attacks started.

The doctor had recommended breathing exercises. Rest. Time together. So they’d come to the forest where the pines whispered and the sky stretched wide. Tessa wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t the heavy thudding of her own heartbeat as they rounded the first bend.

Her chest tightened.

“Let’s stop,” James said gently, noticing. He pointed to a flat boulder beside the trail. “Here’s good.”

They sat down, the three of them in a little triangle under the trees.

“I want to do the breathing thing,” Lily said, swinging her legs. “The square one you showed me.”

Tessa managed a smile. “Okay. Let’s all do it together.”

She drew a square in the air with her finger. “In for four… hold for four… out for four… hold for four.”

The first round was shaky. Her breaths shallow. Her mind still racing.

But on the second square, her shoulders loosened. On the third, her thoughts slowed. And by the fourth, she could feel the air fill her belly like a balloon. She could smell the pine, hear the birds, feel the ground beneath her. James’s hand found hers. Lily leaned against her arm.

“This is nice,” Lily whispered. “It’s like pressing pause.”

Tessa looked up at the treetops swaying gently above them. She felt something she hadn’t in weeks—stillness without fear.

“Yeah,” she said, exhaling slow and full. “Exactly like that.”

They sat there longer than they’d planned, tracing invisible squares in the air and letting the forest breathe with them.

And for the first time in a long time, Tessa wasn’t fighting the moment.
She was breathing through it.
Together.