May Full Moon


It was too late to couch surf, so I crawled into my car. Taking off my muddy boots, trading wet clothes for a warm body. It's hard to keep your place tidy when your life is packed in a car. A pile of clothes would do for a blanket. As my head hit the pillow, I contemplated on going for a night walk to stop the spinning. I giggled to myself as I thought about life five minutes ago. Six women in a circle, jumping in puddles, howling like wolves to the full moon. Laughter, tears, honesty. Connection. It feels so good to let go. To find your tribe and be your true self.

Living in a small town knows no anonymity. You work together, dance, heal, support each other. Your boss is your neighbour and the lady at the cafe is your family. You're all in this together. Whatever touches the village, touches the community. When lines get blurry you realize how close you are. How much of the land is a part of me, how much I am a part of the community. Walking down the street and knowing every person is just something I have never experienced before. It makes me smile.

Especially because this town is made up of a bunch of wild women, who come into the bar with mud on their face after a bike ride. Who couldn't care less about make up and clothes. Who don't try to be someone they're not, just to please. The raw, the real, the wild.

I fall asleep to the drumming of the rain on the roof. No curtains needed tonight, I watch the waterfalls running down the windows whenever I wake up. Sleep infused with dreams of community. Of being a part of something bigger.

I had been clumsy all day. Dropping things, cheeks blushing bright red and falling in love with everyone. I blamed the full moon. Maybe it's just Cumberland.

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