Ghosts

At one point yesterday the weather said it was 94° and raining. I looked outside and saw one dark cloud to the west of me, but otherwise it was sunny and beautiful. Even the weather feels like it’s losing its mind in this long and lonely summer. Throughout the day I kept seeing movement in my periphery, but every time I turned to look, I saw nothing. I wrote down ghosts in my notebook and moved on. My feet carry the memory of my walks, and it feels good. My confidence in not only going outside but also carrying my camera has grown, and now I don’t remember why I was scared to do so for so long.

About a year after I moved to Montana, I told an old friend a goal I had that had been forming in the periphery of my thoughts for a while. I told her I wanted to walk across the country and meet new people and see new places. It was nothing more than a dream then and a fading memory now, a ghost of who I used to be, but the desire to undertake this journey has grown again, and I can’t shake it. I’m on track to pay off all my debts in a year, and about a year after that, I will have lived in Montana for ten years. Ten years is a long time to live in a place, and I wonder if that’s not a good spot to leave and start on a new journey. I don’t want to look back on my life and feel ashamed for the roads not taken. God knows I’ve felt enough shame in my life.