It has been a long long winter. Too much time spent in my head. Thinking. My brain has been stretched and manipulated to a degree that it is worn out. Tired like an old rubber band fraying around the edges.
The woods beckon me to venture into the dark where the moss come alive, emerald green. A path leads to high ground where the blueberry barrens begin to buzz. Life comes back slowly. A pace all its’ own. This is where I begin to unfurl. Life comes back slowly. Of this I am certain.