A World of Octobers by Anna CicalaThe Season of Letting Go
Dear reader, I have been thinking about the way we hold onto things that were never meant to stay. We treat the turning of the leaves as a tragedy, a slow-motion departure of everything we found comfort in during the heat of the year. But perhaps…
The Roughness of Being
I remember the sensation of dry moss against my fingertips, a texture so ancient it felt like touching the skin of the earth itself. There is a specific, frantic vibration in the small things that scurry through the undergrowth—a rhythmic…
The Quiet Bloom
I spent twenty minutes this morning just staring at the dust motes dancing in a sliver of sunlight on my kitchen floor. It is strange how we spend our lives looking for the big, loud events to define our days, yet it is the tiny, overlooked…