I awoke in the dark hours this morning with a yearning so deep for trees and frost and the fog of my breath as I exhale. I swallowed my need as I poured a cup of coffee and reminded myself of the long list of to-dos unchecked on my desk upstairs.
The call of my fifteen hour work days that are the norm in this season bearing down on my wild heart.
I stood for a breath. And then two.
I stood in the predawn light at the threshold of my office trying to ignore the whisper of the forest.
And then I pivoted on my heels and I ran. I ran for my camera and my backpack. For my journal and my sketchbook and my mittens.
For my sanity.
And as the sun crept over world’s edge, I found myself in a stolen hour among old friends who have lost their summer clothes and whose branches now hang exposed and stoic.
And I remembered that I find my best me here.
Have a lovely weekend, friends!