As the cold seeps further into my bones, I walk the mountain more often to commune with the Gods and Goddesses. Should I follow the sun I sing, as I step through the wispy winter grass. Listen to your heart, I hear the rocks roll under my feet. This is not the first time they have uttered this truth. I am listening I say, but it seems so hard. The mountain is comforting and I am a little afraid. The city is far from my mountain. You’ll find your way, wailed the wild wind. She flew from the valley and whipped at my cheeks. Go she cried! Wild women always need to test their fears. Of course she is right but can I trust what is yet to come? You can trust that the future has a mind of its own, counseled the trees. Let go of expectations. It will be as it should be.
Photography © Jeni McMillan