THE MUTINY
Something happened while I wasn’t looking. Just a short while ago, the forest was all polite suggestion… a hint of green peeping out here and there, a tentative unfurling, the woods asking permission to fully wake up. And then, seemingly overnight, permission was no longer being requested. What began as a delicate spring became a full-on growth-spurt mutiny. My trails have disappeared under a lush, wild, unapologetic tangle of a thousand shades of green. Everything is reaching, climbing, sprawling, and consuming the path as if it never existed in the first place.
I am not complaining. I am in awe. But I am also mildly concerned that the forest may be winning.
The chilly mornings that had me debating throwing on a jacket just days ago have quietly melted into something I barely recognize… warmth. Actual warmth. I found myself standing at my door yesterday, genuinely shocked that it was finally in the 70s, entertaining the quaint and almost forgotten notion that I could be overly warm.
That illusion comes to a grinding halt when I drive down the mountain into town.
There is always a quiet negotiation happening in my head on the way down… How long have I been up here this time? By the time I reach town, it is approximately 259 degrees and humans are everywhere, scantily clad, and radiating heat along with the concrete jungle they inhabit. Jacket definitely not required here.
And as per usual, I am utterly dismayed by my choice of wardrobe. I am the woman in the grocery store parking lot frantically ripping off wool socks, peeling layers like an onion with somewhere to be, and desperately fishing out the sandals I know are hidden somewhere in the backseat somewhere…
The mountain and the town are living in two entirely different seasons. I just happen to commute between them on occasion, wearing wildly inappropriate clothing, and still ridiculously shocked that I haven’t figured it out by now. Up here, the mutiny continues. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because the wild things don’t wait for you to be ready. They just grow. Let it all grow wild…
Happy Summer Solstice 2026
