To the blackberries on the interurban trail,
I promise to never take you for granted again. I offer you my hands, the bare skin of my forearms. I will reach through your brambles and ignore the scrapping of your thorns, the stinging sensation spreading up my arm to taste the sun kissed juice of your fruit exploding in my mouth.
To the apple tress in the October moonlight,
I had to go. I had to try. I hope you will understand. I did not fail. I am not returning to you as a last resort. I am not returning because I couldn’t make it there. I made it. I wasn’t any happier than I had been, I wasn’t any more important, and I wasn’t any more financially secure. I was just in a different location. I learned a lot about myself on the way. And I learned a little more about self-acceptance.
To the purple starfish clinging to the side of the rocks at Teddy Bear Cove,
I return to you in reverence and with wisdom. You need me. I need you. We belong together. I will give away all my worldly possessions and sacrifice my well thought plans to be in your presence again, to be wrapped in your glowing oceanic gaze.
To the blinding angle of the sun in winter,
I am no longer afraid to stand in the light, and for those days when I am not feeling quite so brave, I have sunglasses.
I want a good life. I want sunshine and berries and apples and starfish and laughter. I want dancing, lots of dancing. I want a quiet place to read a book and drink tea. I want to watch my son discover the world around and within him.
I don’t want to be rich; I want to be happy.
I am happy here.