Journal Sessions: Tasmanian Reflections

The number of stars you could see was unsettling

As if you were on the edge of the Earth

only a few steps from falling into the awesome depth;

Just an arms reach and you could have caught a shooting star.

It was beautiful and it was scary and it was Freedom.

But there is always a beautiful type of Freedom in Fear.

In walking through the dark forest at night,

you surrender yourself to the space around

you have no choice but to keep moving forward

you have to risk, to trust,

Blindly.

And a smile creeps onto your face

The kind that says, I will remember this feeling

Of being afraid and alive.

And when you repeat your steps the next bright and glorious day

you will see what surrounded you when you were blind.

The rainforest canopy, the prehistoric ferns, the little stream.

The glorious waterfall, its power astounds you.

You could not have imagined its magnificence when you stood right next to it,

in the unyielding dark.

You find yourself trekking across a wide open plain,

wondering if it resembles Africa.

You find yourself atop a foggy mountain

an ancient volcano as old as Earth.

Pausing to wonder and appreciate all it has endured.

All you have yet to endure.

You discover hidden trails, forgotten lakes,

and your childish curiosity.

The abundant greenery

The freshest air

The cold

The morning mist

that creeps and hangs in the valleys

along the lake.

Its unbelievable stillness reflects the hills and your voice

when you howl a morning song

It sings along.