Dawn rises careful, wary of the winds but none remain. The valley is blanketed in the first freezing night of fall, the vegetable patch covered in tarp and for just a second I am overcome with fear that my parents will not have the time to tell me everything they know before it is too late. What if one day I have a vegetable patch and do not know how to tuck it in at night? I look away. My throat is rusty.
My spirit attempts to run away, to avoid the hard steps to take, how does it always know to do that? I wonder to myself if yours does the same, if we are all nervous pinballs in the world, or if it's just me. The river is wide, how far the other shore. Just take one first step. Take one first step and see if you cannot find another stone in the stream on which to stand.
Take a deep breath. Find your path by walking it.
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