Stories written in ink, rooted in the earth.

change

  • Whispering Winter

    Winter arrives without a sound. The air turns cold and clean, and my breath becomes small white clouds that linger upon the gentle breeze. I pull my coat close and listen to the quiet. The lights come on one by one. They glow softly on houses and trees, not loud, not bright—just enough. When snow Read more

  • Seasons Change

    With the autumn weather and changes finally here, I felt it was a good time to reflect on the fact that everything we love will change. Everything we cling to will fade, sooner or later, in ways both subtle and sudden. Grief teaches this with a cruel clarity, and yet it is not meant to Read more