The massive wilds were my blood. They flowed through my veins, they were the meat of my flesh.
I grew up in the woods of Finland. The massive wilds of Finland. During those most formative years, when your being is shaped by the experiences around you.
-I was shaped by the toadstools on the forest floor. Their earthy scent as my chubby hands plucked them from the loam. The tiny dark woven basket I used to collect them in. My mushroom picking basket. The wilds of my soul understood the primal connection of gathering food from the woods, gathering sustenance from the world around me.
-I was shaped by the white, white world. The earth crusted over with sheets of snow, veiled by the element of water. A frozen world. I used to stare up through the ice cave and see the light coming through my snow roof. I used to stand in my sundress and absorb the crisp, sharp energy of wintertide. The massive wilds of my soul understood the primal sameness of me-ness and the world around me.
I felt no hunger. No pain.
No need for retreat.
I was shaped as a feral creature.
And then I was industrialized.