They said the woods was quiet, but that was a lie. The trees stayed whisperin’, leaves talkin’ like aunties on the porch. I came out there ‘cause the city felt loud in my head, thoughts jumpin’ like they late for a bus.
I sat on a fallen log, breathin’ slow, tellin’ myself, You good. You here.
That’s when the fox showed up.
Lil’ red thing ain’t scared. Just stood there, tail flickin’, eyes sharp like it knew secrets. I laughed under my breath. “You free like that?” I asked it, like it could answer.
The fox didn’t run. It just watched me, same way I been watchin’ myself lately—tryin’ not to judge, just see. I realized somethin’ then: freedom ain’t always about leavin’. Sometimes it’s about acceptin’ how your mind move and still choosin’ to sit with it.
Wind brushed my face, soft. Trees swayed like they was noddin’ yes.
The fox turned, stepped back into the green, gone but not lost.
I stood up lighter. Head still noisy, yeah—but my heart? Calm enough.
Nature ain’t fix me. It just reminded me I ain’t broken.
And honestly? That was enough for today. 🌿
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