The Architecture of Silence
Why do we feel the need to measure our lives against the height of things that do not speak? We look at the ancient, the rooted, and the towering, hoping to find a mirror for our own fleeting existence. There is a quiet arrogance in our desire…
The Quiet Visitor
I remember sitting on a porch in the Scottish Highlands, waiting for a storm to break. For three days, nothing moved but the mist. Then, on the fourth morning, a small bird landed on the railing just inches from my coffee cup. It didn’t seem…
The Edge of Silence
We are drawn to the margins. The place where the solid earth gives way to the uncertainty of water. It is a thin line, shifting with the tide, indifferent to who stands upon it. To exist here is to be constantly alert, a small pulse of life…