The Wilderness

A Dream of Flight

I ran away. I ran away. I ran away.

"I ran away," I whisper to myself. "I already ran away, and you'll never find me. I'm lost in the woods, in the stream, and I'm never coming back."

I say this so quietly that I can barely hear myself. Inside I feel fearless, a giant with no cares and no concern but of what will continue to make me happy. Above the others. Worthy of respect and envy. But this, I know and admit, is not me at all.  I'm just Abby; just a girl. The exalting feeling of being anything more fades. One day, some hidden, earnest part of me murmurs. One day I won't be here, and I'll be free. And to that delusional part of my brain, I say: shut up. You don't even have the courage to make your own doctor appointments, much less run away.

I tuck a caramel strand of hair behind my ear as I take notes. The birds chirp around me, and the wind blows through the pines in such a way that it perfectly perfumes the air. I have a field guide with me, as always, in a pack I carry on my back as I go scavenging. I also have a compass, my phone, a sketchbook, and a water bottle. Also, a Swiss army knife, because I've found that it never hurts to be prepared.

I look around, and I feel a bit guilty for wanting to leave. This forest, not the house I grew up in, is my home. The trees have rocked me and the birds have sung me to sleep much more often than my own mother. The sun has warmed my grateful face dutifully for the past seventeen years, and the rain has silently provided clarity, and I feel so ungrateful when I think about leaving.

Soon, I'll graduate. I'm certainly not going to stay at home with my mother, and I can't just live in the woods like a hermit. There's a big world out there to explore. So much that it both terrifies and awes me sometimes, and I, like any sane person, just don't know what I'm going to do with it all. 

There is, thankfully, two things I do know: I'm going to be a botanist. Nature, and plants, in particular, have always interested me. And to do that, I'm going to go to college. I just don't know where or when... But now isn't the time to be thinking about that.

I continue through the forest, reveling in the wild peace it brings me. I spot a robin sitting on a tree branch a few yards away, its feathers striking against the green. Queen Anne's lace crowd around the trail I've worn down over the years and pine needles crunch gently underneath my boots. Sunlight filters silently through the trees, unknowingly spotlighting little treasures, like scurrying ants and glistening spider webs. The sun is just starting to set, and I begin to make out the tiny lights of fireflies. I feel like I, and I alone, am privy to a world unknown; one full of never-ending adventure and unimaginable beauty. Like Pandora's box in reverse, it fills my world with love and joy and takes away all of my worries.

These are the sappy thoughts that fill my head as I head home, that my mind conjures up any time I'm in nature. It's inevitable, really. I can't understand people when they try to explain how they're not 'outdoorsy'. It's as if they never noticed the whole world is outside, that under any concrete is fresh dirt and through any door fresh air. I look behind me at the slowly setting sun, painting the sky with vivid colors, and I stop and stare for a few minutes. Who could ignore such unadulterated beauty?

This is the last thing I see, this color-filled sky. Streaks of blue and purple and pink; orange, green and red. A big, messy and warm rainbow of sorts, surrounding the sun that has warmed this world for billions of years. As the world fades away and before I very suddenly and briefly register the pain, I have a smile on my face. Beautiful.