On being lost

When I set out on this journey to south america I didn’t realize that I was looking for something. It took me a month and a week- and almost 3,000 miles- to even see the question that I’d been trying to answer. Where am I going and what do I want to be?

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Growing Pains

I grew up climbing trees and playing in creeks and measuring how good a day was by how long it took me to wash my feet before getting into bed

I haven't been barefoot in three

Months

And yeah, it's starting to get to me

I used to collect things that shone from the street

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A poem I had forgotten

My mind that morning was

suddenly recalcitrant jars of honey

when berries are only a shivering idea

for a moment again

but the awful wheeze

You didn't ever really forget, but only mislaid

Meteor showers, falcons, prayer

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Sonora Mindling-Werling
The Beginning of a Journey

The beginning of a journey always has an almost nostalgic feeling to it. A sense of familiarity in the expectation of the unknown to come. All journeys start the same way: the last minute chaos of packing, the sweet satisfaction of zipping up your bag when everything had been settled and sorted and stowed, the thrill of shutting of the lights and turning down the heat and locking the door behind you. The start of the ignition, the moment of panic when you think you've forgotten something. 

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Sonora Mindling-Werling
A Letter to My Little Sister

On turning 15

 

Zea

Sweet little corn color haired girl

Welcome

To the world

5 years ago I Walked through a different door but into the same house of being 15

And now you are here on the threshold

About to step into your new set of big girl shoes

And baby

Sometimes you'll have growing pains

But that's just how it feels to get grown up legs

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PoemSonora Mindling-Werling
An Hour Past Midnight

The song of a coyote is familiar to anyone who has slept out under the stars or visited the less populated corners of the world, but this yipping crooning melody is eerily at odds with the normal night sounds of cars and the occasional murmur or passing conversation. It is an unexpected wild in a place of tameness. 

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Sonora Mindling-Werling
Thoughts on Creative Block

When I returned to my family's home in Southern Oregon for a few weeks stay, I was wary of the effects that familiar comfort can have on one's motivation. I knew that the excitement and fire that filled my every waking moment while on the road could easily dwindle to a slow burn once I was surrounded by my childhood town and a life void of the daily challenges on the road. 

Traveling is a constant stream of new stimulus and experiences, and as such it is the perfect tool to keep your mind constantly inspired.

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Sonora Mindling-Werling
Going to Alaska

I have been on many wonderful flights, but this flight was one of the most wonderful of them all. 

It started as a dull green flicker above the horizon, something I could almost mistake for the remnants of sunset on cloud, but as I watched, face pressed against the window, the flicker began to grow. Vague tendrils of green spread waveringly across the sky, and there it was in front of me. The aurora borealis. 

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Washington

No trip can constantly be gorgeous hikes and cozy apartments and witty banter between friends. Inevitably there are days filled with endless hours of driving on the packed asphalt slipstreams of America, a kind of high speed claustrophobic isolation which is both draining and tedious. These days always end however, and oftentimes allow you to arrive somewhere new and beautiful for sunrise.

I woke up to the sound of rain and the feel of cold air against my cheeks. 

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