In last week’s essay, I wrote about the places we feel most like ourselves. Mine is in the mountains, specifically in lake towns. The reflection staring back at me on the water’s edge is the woman I recognize most. The smell of moss and fishing bait and campfire smoke in my hair brings out a younger version of myself, one in which I feel wild, playful, and stubborn about what truly matters.
After writing that piece, I decided to book a short getaway to the mountains near our home. I wanted to have a reunion with that truer version of myself, to hear her voice more clearly. I also wanted to write and read without the usual distractions that come with living in Los Angeles. At the cabin where I stayed, I only heard birds and wind chimes.
Today’s photo journal is dedicated to that short but magical time away. ✨ 🌲
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