The Weight of a Wing
To wait is to become part of the landscape. You sit until the birds no longer see you as a stranger, until the pulse of the forest matches your own. We are taught that movement is progress, that to be still is to be defeated. But there is a…
The Quiet Between Us
I was sitting on the subway this morning, watching a little girl across from me try to hide behind her mother’s coat. She kept peeking out, her eyes wide and curious, then ducking back into the fabric the moment she felt seen. It reminded…
The Art of Holding Still
I spent twenty minutes this morning trying to catch a stray cat that had wandered into my garden. Every time I took a step, it shifted. If I breathed too loudly, it vanished behind the hydrangeas. I realized then how much of our lives is spent…