Forest of Artemis

The sounds of the leaves of the trees fanned by the night breeze are similar to those of the waves that ripple, spreading blue-green forever and are comforting. Once you experience it, which is incomparably larger, it washes away whatever emotions you have, it helps you exodus from where you want to get out but can't. It's like a small stumble quickly becomes a drop of the sea and is purified and disappears. As I sleep in the sound of leaves overnight, it's as if I'm soaked into the bottom of a deep, green lake that's calm, sorting out what I need and what I don't. Listening to grace notes, I look for ideas, feelings, urges, and memories, as well as things that have been lost for so long. It brings me back to balance. As the leaves sway in the dark, like the hair of one big beast, they cover me and heal me. Wildness and having the wildish are commonly misconstrued as being ingracious, intrinsically dangerous. Nevertheless, some people are healed by animals because they are only living honestly, which is the same power nature has. The taste of wilderness could be becoming less common in modern society, yet I believe it is a way to soothe old wounds and soften feelings. This is because nature is always able to accept whatever happens. I learn, in the wilderness, that I can handle anything that comes my way, and I don't need to be overprotective of myself. It's an unprotected place I bring with me. There is always a tender abyss waiting to embrace you as you return to the true you. Rain is a sign of rest. The sun is a sign of action. A cloud signifies moderation. Besides, all wildness depends on feelings about what I decide how I feel about it, which also tells me the value of solitude. If I could touch innate instinct by myself and regain real lives as knowing a wild lady, I will do good for it and also I will fight to keep it as everlasting.