Ends

A month comes to an end. The yellow leaves have all fallen, the little kids dress up and wander the neighborhood, it gets cold. I have lost track of time, I have lost track of everything except the things that truly matter. They sit in my belly, digesting, building my cell walls and that strange part of a human spirit we cannot see in microscopes. I went for a last run along the mountain and the bald headed eagle returned to say its farewells, sweeping past me before moving on to other tasks, it was a sweet nod and I took it, smiling. Packed my bags, prepared for other shores.

This morning I pulled a last note from the envelope, my constant companion on a strange journey I could never have predicted. I read the words out loud in the still morning, a quiet laugh bubbling in my chest at the absurdity of its accuracy. I went to the desert with a hundred questions, and yet somehow I answered the ones I didn’t even know I carried. The desert will do that. The journey will, too. I sit with heavy bags and a full heart in an airport terminal as though everything isn’t different, the little note playing between my fingers. A month comes to an end. Everything else is only beginning. 

But no matter, the road is life.