Reflections

August 25, 2023

I have always been suspicious of the golden hour. It feels like a trick, a calculated softening of the world that makes...

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August 24, 2023

I remember a morning in a coastal town where the air tasted of salt and wet rope, long before the tourists arrived...

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August 24, 2023

In the high alpine meadows, certain species of gentian remain tightly furled during the cold, thin hours of the morning, opening their...

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