I can’t imagine my future anymore without sharp air and pine trees and grey clouds low in the sky. I just can’t imagine it in Seattle, which is the problem. Sweden was closest to this, and Boston just doesn’t have it. The trees, air, soil, water, mountains all permanently changed me like some sort of epigenetic factor. My lungs feel the absence of the air, I feel stifled by the lack of evergreens and the smell of the air.

I don’t want soft beaches and comfortable sand, I want unwelcoming craggy stretches of coastline with visible tree roots and formidable but calm boulders. I want hiking, and streams, and the type of land people call proof of God. I want drizzly days, evenings, and nights where the sun pummeling its way through the clouds is special and rare, and totally clear days even rarer. 

I want to live where it feels like a Haruki Murakami book, where Snow Falling on Cedars describes and everything is cloudy and terribly clear all at once. I know how romantic a view this is, and I don’t even care, because it’s in my bones and lungs, and I’m convinced that I need to be near mountains to stay sane. 

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Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

See, this is the reason I love fall and winter with all my heart. Summer ain’t got nothing on spices, and warm foods, and things that make you feel like you’re being wrapped up in warmth and numminess and love. I would always rather it be cold outside. I need me a good winter, this is why (among many, many reasons) I can’t live in Seattle :(

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Charlie my cat at home <3

Charlie my cat at home <3

It’s so grey and storm-cloudy, but I know it’s probably not going to rain. My obsession with the weather (well, not the weather exactly, just when it will finally rain) isn’t like a sign of my inability to have a life or care about anything. Just, I’ve had rain in my life a grand total of about 8 times since the last day of January. For a girl who grew up in/around Seattle and whose university is in Boston, that’s an upsettingly small amount. 

I keep ranting to everyone I know about how incredibly good nature smells, too. Like, yeah Morocco has its smell, but like I forgot what being surrounded by trees and grass and green things felt like. I just like sit there sniffing the air, and then realize how cool I look and don’t even care.

Home.

After 40 hours of travelling and sleeping in the Madrid airport I am home. We are at hour 23 I have been awake, looks like it will go to 24. I legitimately feel high.

© STR-WRS
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