As I walked along the path, I wasn't entirely sure I could make it, but there was no turning back. Three and a half miles of uphill climbing in the rolling hills of a tropical forest in Jamaica, and back. Less than 18 months after a major life-changing illness and lifesaving surgery? Yes. The land and the stories it held bid me move forward.
The sky in St. Mary that day was a kind of aquamarine color you expect to be reserved for the sea. There was something grounding in it. I imagined the feet that had passed through the narrow trail I was walking. What is nourished by the forest floor I trod along?
