The Weight of the Wing
There is a quiet, terrifying physics to the act of migration. We often speak of it in terms of grandeur—the sweeping tides of birds, the rhythmic pulse of herds across a continent—but the reality is lived in the singular. It is the individual…
The Divine Innocence
No voice, not a single word is needed, just a smile, a silly beautiful smile under the nose that matters. Because it is pure innocence, it contains the remedy for our sick little heart. Divinity is at its best in the smiling faces of the children.
Think…
Fires, by Mai Phuong DuongSecrets in the Small
I spent twenty minutes this morning trying to find my keys, only to realize they were sitting right under a pile of mail I had ignored since Tuesday. It is funny how we look past the things right in front of us. We are always scanning the horizon…