The Weight of Silver
There is a specific quality to the light in mid-winter when the sun retreats behind a thick, uniform veil of grey. It is a flat, honest light that refuses to hide the lines on a face or the weariness in a posture. In the north, we learn to…
The Quiet Weight of Earth
Why do we feel a sudden, sharp reverence when we hold the fruits of the soil in our hands? Perhaps it is because we recognize, in the curve of a root or the texture of a leaf, a history that predates our own frantic pace. We spend our lives…
The Weight of Water
I keep a small, smooth stone on my desk, pulled from a riverbed I visited when I was still young enough to believe that time was a thing you could hold in your palm. It is cool to the touch, polished by years of relentless, patient friction…