Fall Colors in Washington

I have this image in my head of a yellow aspen leaf drifting slowly toward the ground. A slight breeze momentarily suspends it, then it continues the journey down to rest among other awaiting leaves. 

I like the image of the aspen leaf because while to some it may seem like dying, to me it is the most freeing thing: to give into the wind, trusting it will carry you where you need to go. Impossible it seems, for me to let go, trust, and move on. Not being sure where I’m going or what I’m doing or if I’ll ever have income or a place to call my own makes being the aspen leaf challenging. 

The Peace Corps was my version of committing and settling down somewhere. Then that ended rather quickly.

The future is a disquieting thing lately. When I was starting my last year of grad school, I wrote that I wanted travel and adventures and interesting people in interesting places. I was blessed with so much of it last year. I would have taken more. The world and humanity are too beautiful not to be explored and experience. 

I wish I could say that the hope I felt in October when I took these photos remains, but it doesn’t. Hope is very short-lived this year. Each time I think I’m getting a sliver of sunshine a downpour moves in. 

Last month I thought this year was going to conclude on an upswing. Now, I just want to make it through the end of this year, move to a cabin in the woods, and write my novel. I have nothing really keeping me anywhere or calling me anywhere. 

I’m looking for anything to make me feel like I’m running wild in the wind as I did for the few hours in these beautiful spaces.