There she was, right where she wanted to be, standing in the middle of that green, wall-less room. She deeply inhaled the redwood’s bark so she could savor the very soul of the mighty tree. The ground was cushioned and crunchy beneath her comfortable white sneakers with the blue stripes down the sides. She knew she was home.

The lights were on in her honor. They flickered through the evergreen leaves that provided shelter above her. She wore a thin jacket because she knew the weather would be just right upon her arrival. A small breeze engulfed her and she looked heavenward, only to close her eyes. Then a searching sound found her ears.

“Whoosh, whoosh, crash!” She slowly and gracefully lowered her head as though it were part of a dance. She filed this moment into her memories and then let her eyelids slide open. Then a sprint emerged from her legs and brought her across her dirt-brown carpet. There it was. There was the sound.

She had guessed right as the curtain continued to descend again and again. It was beautifully perfect. The stone floor was perfectly aligned under it, so she jumped across the rocks and stood right under her curtain that both hid her and revealed her. It wasn’t falling too hard or fast, or too thin or slow, so she let the water just pour over her face. The rush was strong and she was very wet, but she felt as if every impurity was flowing off of her.

I just stood in hiding, watching this beautiful women fall in love with her surroundings. Then she did something spectacular. She climbed all of the way to the top of her mountain and sat down on a couch in the very middle of a circle of sunlight. Then she kneeled in front of her giant rock, bowed her head, and thanked God for how wondrous her day had been so far. She was in the Redwood forest of Northern California. Her spirit was finally home.