New Beginnings

The morning light that flows through the window of the bunkhouse is muted and barely wakes me. “Another gloomy day” I muse as I stretch out my limbs on my top bunk, conscious of my housemates breathing and stirring. I contemplate staying under my warm blankets with my wispy dreams but I force myself to climb quietly down my ladder.

My feet touch the cold floor and I wince, berating myself for not sleeping in socks. I quickly grab my clothes and dress in the muted morning light. Still barefoot I cross the room and gently open and close the screen door.

Out on the porch I breathe in the morning air. I've always been able to almost taste the air when I inhale and if I focus I can pick out what it is I'm smelling. There are hints of the lake, the pines, smoke from campfires, and rain. My heart leaps at the thought of rain but as I inhale again I realize that the rain smell is too faint to be able to bless us today. I sigh envying whatever area gets poured on today.

I open the screen door of the common space and start hunting for a light breakfast. The best thing is a protein drink in the fridge. As I shut the fridge door my attention is arrested by a colorful magnet. Blues, greens, and yellows.

It's a picture of a marigold under a blue sky. The first thought that runs through my head is that it must be an abstract art painting; because it's not very good. Then a memory runs through my mind of a lost little girl amongst talking flowers and marigolds banging on makeshift drums to start the flower concert. Lastly I ponder the fact that all flowers have meaning and symbolism. I know what a rose means, at least a red one, almost everyone does but a marigold? Does it symbolize something drastic? Would it be an insult to give one to newlyweds?

The beeping of my watch draws me out of the cloud my head has been in and I quickly secure my boots to my feet and again step out into the quiet morning. No one seems to be awake yet which, for a moment, makes me feel like the only person left on the mountain. I continue on the small secluded hiking trail that I wander every morning for my well being; physical, mental, and emotional. I pass berry bushes that have long been plundered of their delicacies by squirrels, chipmunks , and deer. I feel strands of webs made by small hopeful spiders stick to my face and arms. The crows and other birds whose names I'm unsure of jabber and sing at each other as I continue to incline. I climb over rocks and do my best to not trip over exposed tree roots.

Eventually I reach the outcropping of granite boulders where I usually stop every morning. The sun is almost finished rising as I rest on a particularly favorite boulder. The lake and forest stretch out below in a cool palette of colors. I feel at peace; above any worries and yet my gaze is drawn to the wild daisies that are scattered around the outcropping.

Normally they’d give me cause to smile but after my musings this morning I scowl at the small white flowers. Daisies mean new beginnings and that's exactly what this place was supposed to be; a fresh start. Things haven't been this bad in awhile. The feeling of being invisible and unwanted nearly suffocates me on a daily basis. Silently judged and hated for who I am. They think I don't see the looks they give each other when I just “be myself”. They dont know that I can feel their contempt and irritation with me; but I do! I feel it bone deep. I’ve tried so hard but I continue to recieve silent messages of “you dont belong” “we dont want you here”.

I have been through too much and much worse for their pettiness to break me but these are old wounds they continue to tear at every day. While I know that none of what they imply is true, that I’m unwanted, unloved, and unimportant, I’m still hurt. Not only by them but by those who came long before them and put so many scars on my heart and soul. The pain echoes and it is a battle to remember that I am of worth and that I am loved.

The breeze makes the daisies nod as if to say “We understand. Don't worry; be happy.” I rest my forehead against my knees and sob. I release all the feelings, some good and most bad, that I have accumulated over the past weeks. I can’t hold them in anymore. I need to cleanse it all. I need to break now while I’m alone with the trees so that an ill timed word from either of them doesn't shatter me. I'll be stronger this week; I'll be happier after this but for now I sob. I let myself be human, be hurt and let the wind blow the sounds of my loneliness away.