We took a few days to go camping, to a hike-in spot and we found the dreamiest campsite: Sleeping with a river on one side and this clay waterfall on the other side. We hiked across a person-only suspension bridge, learned what beavers sound like when you accidentally enter their territory, played in mossy trees, watched sunsets over a mighty river and of course we hiked a lot. You know what nobody said even once?
Nobody ever mentioned being bored.
This unplugged time is just the reset I hoped it would be.
Because in June (and really always) a muddy bike ride into the woods can be a Pride March of one, can be us in love with this whole damn world, can be bodies of water and bodies in water, those who bravely came before and those in a future wilder then our wildest dreams, the taking and giving of care and crumbs, can be the magic soaked up from dewy ferns and lonely sunsets, finding dragon flies and catching breath, the hills we climb and the rest we need along the way, can be all the ways we arrive and depart- together and alone. Queerness is not a single star or constellation, it is the sky.
sometimes you just need to run and laugh and shout into the wind (and yes, I still managed a very quick 58 degree dip )
Kayaked to the big lake this morning