I am dancing to the song of the creek as night settles in my canyon and the first bat appears. I still my feet. My arms settle at my sides. My little glass of cab franc dangles by the fingertips of my right hand. In my left, I twirl a curiously large bay leaf that’s honoring fall by turning from green to yellow.
I stand still. As still as a person can that’s been shrooming, writing, drinking, dancing, and reading and dancing all day. Not really very still at all, but still enough.
As they wake one becomes a few. A few becomes many. The many gather in my clearing. Under the high branches of old bay trees they dart and swirl. I stand still. Still. Hoping to feel the wind of their flesh wings on my cheeks, my ears. Hoping they come near enough that I hear them whisper by.
Day finishes his surrender. Night she comes. A symphony of crickets and beetles begin as the night things wake.
The night air smells differently than the day air. It’s colder tonight. Tonight the sky will an imperceptibly darker shade than the one before.
The creek flows on. She sings her sweet, slow song steady on. Steady on. Steady on. The creek sings her sweet, slow song.
I love writing I mean I LOVE WRITING. It’s helped me regain agency over my dark stories and celebrate my growth and joy stories. Writing helps me self-heal and has given me a place to explore my creativity and keep my sanity! Working for Our Story and Starfish Connection gives me an opportunity to do what I love and give others a place to do the same in a supported community that we built for storytellers like me.
