Misty Morning Duck, by Ronnie GloverThe Weight of Breath
The morning does not arrive all at once. It comes in layers, a slow thinning of the grey. You stand at the edge of the water, and the air is heavy with the dampness of things not yet awake. There is a silence here that is not an absence of…
The Architecture of Stillness
Time has a way of fraying at the edges, especially when the world demands we be constant, moving, and loud. But there is a sacred geography to the slow morning—a quiet territory where the clock loses its teeth and the light settles like dust…
Pacific Sea Nettles by Elizabeth Brown
Although I'd rather not run into an jellies while swimming, I am completely mesmerized by them at an aquarium. I really could watch them float around for hours, and am fascinated by all of the various colors and details the different varieties…