01 May, 2017

Own Your Wild

The wild is an integral part of who are are as children. Without pausing to consider what or where or how, we gather herbs and flowers, old apples and rose hips, shiny pebbles and dead spiders, poems, tears and raindrops, putting each treasured thing into the cauldron of our souls. We stir our bucket of mud as if it were, every one, a bucket of chocolate cake to be mixed for the baking. Little witches, hag children, we dance our wildness, not afraid of knowing…”

– Emma Restall Orr

Take me back to when I could just conjure anything with my mind. When I could see through ant holes and whisper my secrets into the cracks of trees and transform shells into gold with my touch.

When every pond and rockpool was a portal.

Where ever creek would just come alive if I were slow and silent enough to let it.

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