Category Archives: Out of doors

walk on

Walk the shore, let your body and mind wander, listen to the wind and waves and loves. Let the fears and dreams and sun and breeze wash over you. Mostly just pay attention. Mostly just keep going on. There is more than one way to be at home. #godo #holdfast-----------------Summer goal: walk the shoreline from the Platte to Good Harbor completed October 1st
Walk the shore, let your body and mind wander, listen to the wind and waves and loves. Let the fears and dreams and sun and breeze wash over you. Mostly just pay attention. Mostly just keep going on. There is more than one way to be at home. #godo #holdfast—————–Summer goal: walk the shoreline from the Platte to Good Harbor completed October 1st

This Was Amazing.

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A few more highlights now that I'm back to signal land: clay pinch pots in waterfalls, suspension bridge, beaver watching, campsite with a view, a little rain and plenty of hiking
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.

end of June

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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.
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.