He wanted the sea. I wanted the earth. We packed up the truck with extra boards, crunchy snacks and a random collection of firewood before setting off to the coast. The winds died down and even though it was raining, he stripped and changed into his wetsuit faster than I could finish my tea. After surfing and writing about how the coast during a storm makes me feel, we then headed south and turned towards the closest national forest. We were looking to get lost. There are a lot of hunters in the area and even more loggers, so finding a secluded spot to camp requires a little bit of patience. After jamming to a few good playlists we stumbled upon the perfect place. Perfect because we had no cell service and only what we needed. Per our usual rhythms, Wyatt starts the fire while I add warm layers, which in spite of the cold air will inevitably melt off later.. Slow but heavy, the rain drops on our camper shell wake us in the morning. The air is a damp forty degrees but exploring the forest in the mist always brings about a feeling of mystery. I see it as positive sign for mischief. Through mud and turns, we heard the falls before we found the bridge. Suspended further up than I would ever I care to fall and above the stone lined creek, it was a terrifyingly romantic spot. We had it all to ourselves, even better. After a bit of dizzying kissing and Wyatt evaluating the design of the bridge, we hopped over a fallen log and followed a steep path that was more rocky than muddy. Reaching the base of the falls was wet but worth it. I feel the rushing water spray me backward but holding my ground against her power, I soak it all in. Drenching myself in the energy and the water and most importantly, the moment. Nature is healing. The more I am outside, the more I want to get lost.
Ideas for where should we go next?!