Once there was a man, a Survivor Man of sorts, who found himself all alone. Living in isolation, he made friends with playful woodland creatures, had long conversations with beady eyed box turtles, and lounged on his back resting his black mane on his sinewy tan arms watching eagles soar over the valley.

Life was gloriously simple. This dark haired strong man would have made the GQ cover five times over and won every science award for his contribution to finding new species but there were no photographers clamoring for his likeness or judges awarding medals where he lived. He enjoyed living by the rhythm of the earth, watching the day lilies open in the morning and close at night with such regularity that no clocks were needed to tell the time.

His skin tanned in the sun and his fingers grew rough in the wild. No one nagged him about biting his nails or what time he would need to come in for dinner.

Waking up early one morning, this Tarzan of all Tarzans spied a fawn at the edge of the forest. Next tiptoed the doe followed by a powerfully muscular stag. The stag walked protectively near the pair, his family.

Something stirred in the man’s heart at this very natural scene. He needed someone, something to protect and call his own. Originally happy with all this paradise had to offer, he needed more. From that day, his very image began to haunt him when he leaned over the creek to wash the dirt from his long face after digging for roots to eat. Where was his mate, his match?

The man began to take note of the variety of mating rituals engraved into nature’s DNA by God himself and knew he wasn’t meant to be alone forever. Even the snakes curled in piles together to keep warm. Where was his soulmate? Some creatures in nature had more than one partner but that was all he needed for now, just one. His one.

Sitting quietly and thoughtfully in the golden meadow, the man had perfected the art of stillness so thoroughly that a bright yellow and black monarch butterfly alighted on his cheek believing it a place of rest.

Exploding at the gentle touch, the man jumped, ran and climbed up a tall knarly tree to release the energy building within. Beginning to think himself crazy as his head broke through the top leaves to the sky above, he cried, “God, why am I alone? You created me, the drive, the need, the longing. What can I do?”

The startled monarch watched from a safer perch with silent wonder.

That afternoon, the man lied down to sleep under an apple tree, more exhausted than usual. His tawny limbs stretched out as he settled his long mane on a bed of moss, face upward to the blue sky. He dreamed wild dreams and woke with a start at the excruciating pain in his side. It was both painful and pleasurable, sensations blending in euphoric harmony.

With the trained instincts of a hunter, he heard a noise. Letting only his eyes and a slight tilt of the head move him, his face filled with wonder and shock to see a creature so lovely and so new breathing restfully beside him. God had answered his heart’s desire but how did she get here? No one had permeated his isolation, his world before.

As he turned his eyes on the details of her delicate nose and soft ringlets dancing on her shoulders, he noticed her chest rising and falling with each breath and continued his visual inventory to her toes. The friendly monarch rested on her big toe. Perfect.

Driven by urges he couldn’t explain, he leaned over to gently press his lips on her soft cheek. His rough hands wouldn’t do for this pure and soft gift from God Himself. Without opening her eyes, she stirred as if in a pleasant dream and her face turned so that her lips met his as if by some greater magnetic force.

The couple entwined in an embrace, arms and legs naturally curling in a way ordained since the beginning of time. A student of the many exotic mating rituals of nature, the man found no problem guiding the woman through one of the most exhilarating, pleasurable moments of their new life together. This first kiss, this first embrace, this first time. It came so naturally.

Eventually, she did open her eyes. The startling blue-green irises looked deeply into his. Giggling softly in a way that bounced musical notes off his eardrums, she said, “What’s your name?”

The man, long accustomed to giving clever titles to the world around him, looked back at her thoughtfully as the sun began to dip below the horizon. The last rays of light deepened her auburn hair into a magnificent firey red.

“Adam, yes, Adam. And, can I call you Eve?”

“Yes, I would like that very much.”

For more information on this month's writeaway contest, check out  Michelle's Scribbit. She always has great stuff coming through the pipeline. Enjoy numerous tips for life and cleverly drafted commentaries on life.

UPDATE: Check HERE for my list of THANK-YOUs for those who helped make this happen.