What reminds me of where I come from. A forest that is more coniferous than deciduous will appear more black than green from a distance—I didn’t realize it until I moved away. Each scraggly pine tree lends lopsided grace, and branches mesh like dark lace, sunlight streaming through uneven gaps and pockets.
What brings warmth and a pulse. I rest my hand on my dog’s back, nestle my fingers into her downy undercoat and feel each of her shallow breaths. We stare ahead at the doe who gazes at us from inside the thicket. What we can’t tell the animals in words, we try to tell with calm, slow breaths, and a lack of rapid movement.
There’s not much to eat around here because it’s pretty cold. Well, except raspberries, right off the bush. Come to think of it, I would choose eating raspberries off the bush over chocolate any day.
I love living somewhere where a) there are still squirrels and b) they’re thin and fit, and they still scurry when we approach them.
Flora + Fauna
The key, I think, is to make the calm of the forest and shore a portable state of mind. Easier said than done, especially when living in an environment of brick and beige, harsh rectangles where we don’t seem to belong. It’s letting winding branches take their own shapes regardless of place—how many times has a scrubby potted plant softened and relieved a stark office, making it more of a home for somebody?