Waiting for the Sky
I spent most of this morning watching the rain hit the windowpane, waiting for the clouds to finally break. I had a list of things to do, but the heavy gray sky made everything feel unimportant. It’s funny how we spend so much of our lives…
The Weight of Gold
The trees do not ask for permission to change. They simply let go. There is a quiet violence in the way the green retreats, replaced by a color that burns before it falls. We spend our lives trying to hold onto the summer, as if the warmth…
Capella Do Sacramento Cloister by Benjamin MitchleyThe Weight of Silence
I remember sitting in a small stone chapel in the hills outside of Siena, waiting for a storm to pass. The air inside was thick, smelling of damp earth and centuries of extinguished candles. There was an old man in the corner, his rosary beads…