do you remember that blueberry farm in ohio and the peacock wandering silk-feathered through it, the round wooden house filled with sunshine and all of those windows? we picked blueberries and covered bushes tenderly with protective netting. it was hot and sticky work.
then we drove into the woods, thank goodness that ultramarathoner was there because she knew about these woods this creek-- have you ever taken off your clothes with people you met only that morning, right before driving to the blueberry farm, and stepped topless into the cold water of a creek in rural ohio?
what i remember most is that none of us were ashamed. other women standing there in the water with their hips shaped exactly as they were gave me courage, my hip bones poking out as they do and all of our nipples standing up, how many pairs of wet cotton underwear, who cares i plunged from the rock into the water again, again.