Chartreuse, emerald, pickle, olive, pear. The trees, the hillside in between the trees, the grass, the shrubbery, the weeds. The truest, deepest shades of every color green.

We stumble between the long, swaying eucalyptus trees during a break in the welcomed rain. The vibrant scent fills us up like a warm cup of mint tea. Every individual leaf is bursting alive with gratitude. Oxygen for days. My childhood twirls around me by means of the cool breeze as I grasp my daughter’s hand. The rocks feel wobbly beneath her tiny feet.

I almost forget the other times I stumble solo through the eucalyptus trees. A different kind of storm brewing. Pushing down hard on the earth, I stomp and stamp. She pushes back, firm yet compassionate like a mother. Grounded. My tears as welcomed and needed as the rain. 

Sometimes I go out to be filled up. Other times I go out to be grounded. Every time I go out I get just what I need.