i made my way into the woods on sunday morning and walked and walked and walked. the girldog came with me. she stayed by my side until we neared the end of the trail, and then she zoomed up and back, up and back, just like i knew she would. these woods, for all of their ever-change, are predictably ferny and misty wet and restorative, and i’m predictably closer to myself when i make the time to visit.
since i’ve written here, i’ve been to the vet with my pets more than twenty times, not exaggerating. remarkably, both animals are well and healthy at this point; my savings account is another story. what else: a good friend went through open heart surgery and the carpenter & i spent a good sum of time in the sterile vacuum of an icu waiting room with other hand-wringers. what else: american vaginas shared a collective sigh of relief on election day. also: progress on the knitting/ fifty-five hours a week of work hours regularly logged/ numerous carbohydrates consumed.
i am thinking about pecan pie for thanksgiving and about when i can get to the woods next and about how i’m going to embrace winter. i am thinking about staying good and solid when the world around us all seems so frayed up. but in the woods, the fraying ceases, it’s all just creak and echo and wild ghosts and all i need to do is just go there and follow the trail and breathe.
wishing you all the happiest of thanksgivings, friends.
x’s & o’s, emily