Today I walked out to the railway line and waited for Paul to come walking by – I looked up the ravine hill and could see the very tip of the chimney on my little stone house.
Paul came along after about an hour and when I fell into step next to him he did not protest.
We walked the length of the rail together in silence and when we came to the old bridge I climbed up the gravel bank with him to sit on the high-side with our feet dangling over the edge.
We stared out at the forest and the meadow, at where the trees met the skyline and there were little red birds flitting through the trees.
A fox broke the treeline and tumbled over the camouflaged body of a field rabbit.
There was a moment where the universe held it’s breath and my chest filled with tension before everything snapped back like an elastic band.
The rabbit went limp and the fox took it’s catch back to the woods.
Paul closed his eyes, gave a quick nod of his head and jumped the eight feet to the ground.
He gave me a wave and left me there.
I noticed the sun was getting low so I let myself carefully back down onto the bridge and took the safe route down the gravel bank.
I walked home thinking about what I’d seen and learned since the full moon.
I’m less freaked out by this place.
More settled.
Even if I don’t belong here I think I could one day.