something up over here. The first foray into the deep dark woods of the last ten years. I was lost. Quite lost. There were times I sat down and waited patiently for the forest to grow over me and meld me into its soil. Instead it let me gestate and grow. What can be scary and overwhelming became welcoming and sustaining.
Still have some pine needles and pebbles between my toes. An owl gifted me with a feather. And I found deep tracks from a predator I've seen before. I mean to look him in the eyes soon.
The painting is Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket by James McNeill Whistler