I've been wild lately. Reading novels that challenge my ideas about the world, new plans for the future.
I've been spending lots of time in open spaces-so open that it forces you to put things back into perspective. That you are small, the world is big, but it's worth exploring every inch. That there is so much more out in the world than what is immediately surrounding you. It's good for the mind like that- open spaces- or at least for me. Because when I stand in a field and the wind blows through my bones, I know that I can be anywhere in the world and I'll still see the same sun, the same moon, just different ground beneath my feet.
We rented a forest service cabin at 10,100 ft. I love it. My lungs and body were tired, but happy. My pup was wonderful and played hard. She's passed out at my side right now and has been all afternoon. We drank too much wine and laughed late into the night and lit a fire in the wood stove. We saw shooting stars and fat winter birds and sank deep into alpine snow and ate huge meals full of good food that was all different colors.
And it's times like these where I realize my bones weren't so restless, they just needed to see the sky without a city beneath it and breathe in some deep, cold air.