The last time my skin was this sun-kissed I was living in southern California, I was single (by choice), and I was - to the extent any depressed person could possibly be - happy.

I remember the first September that came after my world had come crashing down.  Several, several years ago, I had a tradition around the middle of the month where I would go hiking to a specific point back home.  I usually would have my phone off during the day, but would try to go and spend it somewhere that made me happy.  Someplace that was out in nature, a place I loved.
I tried to revive that tradition in 2023, but as I was banished to a place I never wanted to live (and had no say in the matter), I didn't have any place nearby that was familiar or loved.  Regardless, I tried to find someplace that was relatively out in nature, with actual hiking trails, away from people, to be alone.  It was during that attempt when I learned that the one thing that before, without fail, would lighten my spirits, had also had all joy robbed from it...and me.  Hiking that day was the first time where being out in nature did not bring me joy, and I felt so incredibly dead inside.

Thankfully, as time has passed, nature has once again become healing.

Last year I had the opportunity to hike for a couple of days at Arches National Park.  I don't know that I ever uttered the phrase "oh wow" before in my life, much less multiple times.  But the sights in that park were incredible.  Awe-inspiring.  These huge rock formations, the colours of red and green colliding together...it was beautiful.  I felt more alive when I was there, but still not to the extent I used to. 

I almost wonder if things would be different now.  If I had at least lived in a place where nature was easily accessible nearby, and was able to get out each weekend, if I would have been able to heal more quickly, at least in some regards.  I know I'll never know, but I also know that where I am now, there is still a lot of healing to be done.  And maybe it would be done better, for lack of a better word, if I lived in a place I didn't hate, and a place where I could get out weekly.

But what I do know is that the past few days have been exactly what my weary heart has needed.  Not only have I been able to mark another national park off the list, but so much has felt like home.  Being on a coast (although not MY coast), smiling at people and being friendly, experiencing the fog and having sights hindered because of it, walking around in a tank top and workout leggings in 50 degree weather and embracing every single second of the cold (while getting funny looks from people all bundled up)...it has felt like home.  The raw beauty, the endless paths, the tramping around and not passing people for hours sometimes...

I know I have always loved nature and being out in it.  I know it has always captured my attention and my heart that no human ever has.  I know it feels like home, and is a balm to my soul.  But this time around, seeing what I have seen...there have been so many moments where I have felt overwhelmed and have wanted to simply weep from the stark beauty that is here.

My heart has been soothed.  It is not repaired.  It is not healed.  But this trip and these hikes and the beauty around me has whispered healing words to it.

I have been out in creation.  I have been kissed by the sun (and look like it, however temporary).  I have felt more like myself the past few days than I have in...the past 8 years.

I do not want to leave, and am terrified of going back to a place I hate where there is nothing as far as nature is concerned.  I don't want to go back to feeling trapped.  I especially do not want to go back to a place that has so many bad memories due to everything that happened that I had no say in the matter.  It's moments like now where I feel the desperation to get out.  To say screw it to finances, and just move, regardless of how much that would cause more debt to accrue.  (Debt I never had before I followed the person who eventually would abandon me.)

The last couple of days sadness has reared its ugly head.  I find it growing more and more, and find myself beginning to drown in it.  Maybe it's the thought of leaving here and having to go back to a place I feel trapped in.  Maybe it's some things I've started processing, and grief is making an appearance.  Maybe it's just my dysfunctional brain showing me it's not fixed (still).  I am trying to fight it, but I have been trying to fight it for so long, and it hasn't gotten better.

But I digress.

At least for a few days I got to feel alive again.  I got to be outside in nature, hiking around to my heart's content, letting the sun caress my skin and leave its mark, and feel a little bit like I was home again.  I'll take that over not having experienced it at all.