The Girl and a Wolf

I was lucky to split my time this Thanksgiving between the beach and the mountains.
That’s pretty dreamy, eh?

I was invited to a Thanksgiving feast set outdoors among rolling hills where coyote and bobcats likely roam.  

From my seat at the table I could steal glimpses of the ocean, 

and watch the sun dip away from its waltz with the sky.

The trees were treated to a chorus of our laughter throughout the night. 

For that alone, I give thanks.

With my belly full and my heart even fuller, 

I headed to the mountains where I counted fish in the lake and scouted for eagles in the trees.

I probably could’ve drank a little less, and used my brain a little more… 

but that’s what New Year’s resolutions are for.  

image is my own, Lake Tahoe

All said and done, I'd rather have a collection of stories to share, 

even if it means a little repentance in the morning.

I tuck those stories away in my back pocket for a rainy day.

You see, a few weeks back I was the girl who cried wolf.

And I feel lighter in step because of it: because of this reversal in course… but.

But there are people I care about that I think I might have let down.

And all I can offer you is this:

I will always be guilty of falling in love with places I haven’t been; with people I have yet to meet.

It’s a fickle fortune that I’ve been dealt by the universe.

And all I can hope is that you won’t fault me for it.

Because all things considered, I think it’s a pretty sacred fate.

And after months of confusion, I figure my path doesn’t need to be so clear.

I will let my heart be guided by the sun and the stars and trust that the other pieces will fall into place.

Have a happy week, my friends.

xo