The way we grow

Each day, and at varying times of the day, Sienna would stroll up and down The Terrace. It was a ritual of hers to wake in the dark and to feel the abyss of time. To have the privilege to roll out from beneath the sheets, stretch her limbs and then to feel the connection of the earth underfoot. She would dress exactly how she felt (in shades of black and blue), sweep her hair into a ponytail, and apply a natural, slightly ethereal-smelling fragrance. Sienna strung a golden chain around her neck that had small constellations and the sun engraved into the pendant. Next, she would grab her buttermilk-coloured reusable ceramic coffee and bound out the front door of the plain house.

The terrace was a highpoint in her city of rolling hills and hidden pockets of bushland. The energy, beauty and culture of the place left her electrified. Her eyes were wide open but, her vision had some impairment and she feared deep connection to another, or the outcome of her own growth. These days, it felt like her heart strings were hanging from a very fine wire. One dangerous pull and she could shatter like glass into a million shards.

Plants grew in abundance and sprouted fervently from cracks within the rock walls lining the sidewalk. Sienna would fall into the rhythmic pattern of running away, striding forwards with belief of progression, as her emotions overwhelmed her. She loved, or feared, too greatly. Up here, at these new heights, she felt like she was a ship with wings afraid of capsizing. Even in the darkness, she could see the ferns hug the banks and vines ascend tree trunks. Looking to the canopy and stars fading from the sky, Sienna admired the electivity poles and wires that dramatically swept across this fresh perspective. She felt so alive as the power box hummed and birds sang in joy of spring. Could it really be springtime again? Nature believed it to be- even in the shift from nightfall to daybreak there were flowers blooming.

It was still a relatively dark hour but, the liveliness was beginning to increase around her. There was movement in the village. Some days, the grey did carry such weight that even without fog or smoke, her lungs grew weary with exertion. In her daily musings to herself, Sienna vowed she would not halt or pause a moment longer after so many withering and decaying years. Her existence demanded growth. The streetlights that lined the side of the road would blink and remind her to, in the very least, maintain faith in that golden orb of light. At the intersection, as she waited for the green man to appear to signal her crossing, Sienna would shiver, momentarily indulging in all her fears and insecurities. He blinked and she would shake them free. A tabby cat slinked across the road and a cyclist altered his rapid trajectory to avoid collision with the small predator. Perhaps, her rambling down and up the terrace each day and placing unnecessary burden on her body was nonsensical, and yet she felt her direction being pulled to another dimension. A new chapter had arrived, Sienna could sense it without a singular doubt. This intrinsic feeling terrified her. She blinked constantly at her surroundings- how could a location feel so reflective of her journey and growth in individual identity? The shiver returned. It seemed that this vast world kept sending her little reminders that she did have a right to occupy space and thrive. Sienna only required the courage to give flight to her potential. The neighbourhood began to glimmer in the early morning light- hope was rising- and she shined too, radiantly, and unapologetically like the sun.

There was such magnificence in being a candle in the dark; the light in a new dawn of reality. This was Siena’s era. The fire and ability to inspire change was within her, kindling and intensifying steadily. Dawn was summoned and appeared to cross some unspoken threshold. The young woman would watch the first rays emerge, slicing through the grey to then settle on the glass panelling of skyscrapers and cottages tucked into cul-de-sacks. This is my religion, Sienna thought as she walked past the quaint chapel that had the appearance of being submerged in a garden bed of ivy and vibrant flowers. The reflections of the sun were soft at this hour and did not pierce her curious hazel eyes. A soft breeze caressed Sienna’s figure playfully, sweeping across her fair skin. The beauty and potential in the world around her could not be unseen, even when her heart fell, and belief failed her. The pedestrians passing her by smiled politely and murmured, “good morning”. Hope lay, too, in the flecks of yellow among the cooch grass in the park across from the coffee stand. They were weeds but, one without much knowledge of flower varieties could easily mistake them for dandelions or marigolds. They bloomed gloriously and in the brightest sort of way- radiantly and unapologetically. All around Sienna, there were varying shades of yellow, green and blue. The terrace felt like home, the sky too. There were mountains behind her into the distance and life began to stir in the suburbs in the valleys below. Aircraft glided noiselessly over the skyline to a nearby port and the grey no longer hung over the city like a blanket. It was in that moment that Sienna realised she was not the only one grasping onto fear to feel secure. When the world quaked and that haze reappeared, she knew the truth- it was time to change. The flowers could sense it. Nature had already begun to adapt. An era of living with equitable growth had arrived and thriving required no further delay, simply because it was just. The sun rose higher with time and cloudy bays would come and go, sliding out to sea and dissipating sheets of rain. Sienna returned home and from that day onwards, she lived the way she believed.