Messages in a Bottle

Being in the mountains of Montana on vacation really takes me back. Especially with the bout of sleeping troubles I have had tonight. I’ve spent the past few hours outdoors just enjoying the scenery.

It makes me think of all the times I wandered off alone as a teenager in the woods and near the rivers in the Appalachian mountains.

I had tons of “hiding spots” where I would bring food, drinks, and drawing materials. Almost all of my alone spots were near a body of water. I remember one spot in particular, it was under a bridge and up against the levee.

I’d climb down, settle myself under the bridge and listen to music, wax philosophical, draw, and… talk to myself. I also used to write in my journal and write silly short stories.

One of my favourite hobbies was sending off my short stories in a bottle, to float down the dry fork river. Sometimes I’d write anonymised journal pages and send them downstream too.

I’d confess my deepest secrets and feelings and watch them float away. I don’t know if they were ever found and read, but younger Tia liked to pretend they were. She’d write letters to her unnamed penpal down the river.

Have any of you ever sent out a message in a bottle?