where the coyotes howl

 

 

It was morning when we packed our winter clothes and headed for the woods. A friend held the keys to a cabin outside of the city and invitations were sent our way to join him. I've always known that forest light and conversations beside a bonfire were an integral part of living happily. There is something to be said about the way goosebumps live on your skin and boredom departs when it's just you and the woods. I always return home to a newly foraged life, I make my bed less hurriedly and eat my apples without wishing they were pomegranates.

In the forest, poems come easier, stars are closer to the iris, clocks are forgotten and the smell of pine is strong enough to make an adult feel like she is only a child. The forest humbles and hugs its inhabitants, as well as frightens them. After all, it is here where the coyotes howl.

We stared at the roaring fire, huddled between wool and wood, until the stars came out to enchant and dance upon the brows of those who were watching. I always make sure to look up into the night sky because it makes me feel small, and in doing so, not only do I shrink, but my worries and hunger shrink too. As I craned my neck to see if any of the stars were dancing across the darkened sky, Carter turned to me and said "The stars have always scared me. All of these years, I've been too afraid to look up."

At first, I was concerned and replied "How could the night sky scare you?" It was in this moment of asking that I realized how the stars have always scared me too. These bright faraway specks of silvery glow splattered across the black sky, a bold and beautiful sight as if giants took to painting after growing bored of daylight. It is here, underneath these stars, where my worries go to bed and I am reminded of every breath beneath my ribcage. I am suddenly a baby staring into the eyes of a starry sky, constellations as my lullabies and darkness as my light. I know I shouldn't be afraid, as I cling to the pockets of my wool coat, but it is through the fear of dying that I have learned to truly live. 

I looked at the sky and in a moment, I was lowly and small like an ant outside of the ant farm. I was no longer a twenty two year old girl who wanted blooming peonies and friends to love me, I was a tiny ball of dust and I was happier for it. The stars are shotguns to your ego, don't be afraid to look up. -

“When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don't seem to matter very much, do they?”
― Virginia Woolf 

The Outfit

Skirt – Chicwish

  Hat – Scala Hats from Winners

Boots & Sweater – Thrifted from Value Village

Necklace – Under The Shade Of A Bonsai Tree

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