3/14/18

I’m standing in the meadow, soles of my feet slowly freezing, wishing the body did not have limits. My eyes will never be wide enough to catch this sky, the shimmering veil of green falling like slow stars on my head. My mouth is no good either; what? what? is all I can say, all I can ever say when I am struck with wonder. I clutch my heart. I do not think it was made to withstand such a thing.

Before, the stars were most spectacular. Tonight I almost forget them. They are swallowed in an explosion of green tinged with pink, light swirling like silent wind chimes, like a dance, like nothing I’ve ever seen. Tears freeze on my eyelashes. I squeeze my thumbs into my palms.

I walk home backward, or try to walk home and fail more than once, more than twice, because the show strikes again, sends me running back to the meadow through the snow. I am shaking with cold, but afraid to leave. I know the moment I step inside the house something will go missing. I will brush my teeth in the dark. I will stare out every window. I will chase this the rest of my life–

the moment I was boundless, I was infinite, I was sky.

Photos by Jouni Mannistö, Ivalo Trek Lapland