Go outside; trip down dirt paths in your favorite summer heels or embellished flip flops or beaten-up sneakers that you still have from middle school with holes in the soles and doodles from friends you no longer to talk to--your footwear doesn't matter. Wear a pretty frock you aren't afraid to get dirty or the same skirt you've worn for three days straight and you don't care that it's already mud-splashed or your favorite tee shirt that you stole from a boy who never really loved you but you still smile when you think of him--it doesn't matter what you wear. Just go outside as you are and find a secret path through the woods or the fields or along the river or through the old cemetery at dusk while fireflies begin to spark in the coming darkness. Don't believe the footprints visible in the dirt--no one has been there before you, not for dozens of years, you are the first to take this road and see these green things unfurling as nature reclaims what man tried to dominate. Twist your ankles, bruise your knees, skin your shins. Just go outside.