22

The sound of the softly breaking waves rolls over her skin and under her fascia, soothing her tired muscles with its cadence and rhythm. The salt air meets her breath, positive ions nourishing her cells deep within, as the sun, on its way to the horizon, still manages to warm her marrow. And as the wind whips her hair wildly, sending a frisson of electricity through her nerve endings, she remembers the whole truth. She is not separate from nature; its power becomes her power, its presence becomes her presence. For she, too, is wild with purpose. 

- Still, Between