I turn 26 years old with grimy hands, the fresh earthly soil still caught at the rim of my fingernails. A wide meadow is spread out around me, blooming with wildflowers that carry names I have yet to learn, and buzzing with the soft hum of bees and bumblebees who have no use for the names at all for they all speak the same language anyways. The tips of my fingers are red with wild strawberry juice, marked by the efforts of stroking the high grass and strawberry leaves to uncover the world it sustains below. It rains, as it has for most of the week and the creek runs wider and wilder than it did yesterday. A hawk flies away from my heavy footsteps, and out of instinct, and perhaps due to the slight jolt of my own heart, I apologise for my disturbance. Slightly further, an american robin sings its proud song among the high tree tops of its home while a squirrel chitters irregularly and loudly, locking its eyes with mine, ears forward and peaked towards my slow moving body.

I have found that there is nothing I could truly wish for or want, for as long as there will be two pine trees to gaze up towards the sky, while red dwarf dewberries grow edible fruits at their roots. There is such beauty in the world besides what we personally put into it, or expect out of it – enough to fill every desire.

I turn 26 in a world that is so full of life that every spring it can’t resist but burst out in bright colors we can’t help but awe at. Their companions, butterflies and insects of all kinds, follow suit, catching my eye every time they fly by with bright yellow wings tipped with black. I am grateful that I gained another full year of nothing but love and respect for the places I call home, for the bounty of the earth as I gently shovel out a bunch of garlic, or as I dig my fingers through the soil to home a new seed. There is a tranquility that fills my heart as I listen to the chatter of birds, watch the glistening of the leaves as they dance in the sun, or as I hear the wind graze across the grass.

I turn 26 in a world that is attempting to hold on to life as humanity violently depletes it out of its abundance. I live in a world that is slowly set on a fire that we can never turn off nor escape. I attempt not to think about it too much, nor linger on the reality that there is very little I can truly do but depress those around me (and what’s the fun in that?). In fact, I try to do little thinking at all and instead do more listening to the world around me. It speaks a foreign language – but one worth learning. Oh, what an honor to have turned 26 years old with mud covered hands smelling of the earth upon which I grow.