I was up last night again, all night.
There were lights threading through the trees of the forest and I couldn’t help but watch them blink through the tall, strong trunks of the birch and aspen.
The pine trees rattled their cones in an invisible wind and these tiny lights flashed and glowed among the fronds.
It’s beautiful.
It’s a funny thing about mystery – just when you decide you’re ready to be out of it and you can live without knowing you seem to get hit with a reminder of how beautiful not knowing can actually be.
These lights could just be fireflies or kids or they could be ghosts or spirits.
Right now they could be anything magical or mundane.
But, once I know what they are the answer is there and it’s no longer a mystery.
Maybe I’m okay not knowing about the big chicken foot… maybe it can stay a big mystery for now.
Maybe Barbie will even tell me when I’m ready.