Marielle Quinn

She Will Not Be Quiet: A (mostly unedited) daily writing practice

Day #62 of (mostly unedited) daily writing/sharing

Marielle Quinn

The roses were just starting to bloom in our
California backyard when she entered the world
on that spring day, already exceeding 
the length of her tiny, six and a half pound body. I'll 
never forget how wide open her eyes were, 
even in those very first moments. In less than a week, she 
will turn 23, this young woman who hiked 
the entire length of Oregon on the Pacific Crest Trail—solo. 
Half of it on an injured foot we later learned 
was broken. The toddler and young one 
who wanted to do it exactly her way. No, insisted 
on doing it exactly her way. In first grade, she screamed 
I don't belong here as we tried to coax her into that
brightly-lit classroom—this theme continued 
for many years, wrestling and wrestling with some invisible 
wind. She has always been most at home with the trees, 
with the trail beneath her feet, among the mountains
and wildflowers—a force of a young woman 
who has always very much 
belonged to herself. 

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