The Storm We Made
I didn’t even have to close my eyes to know how similar it sounded – to feel like I was walking down a street as the storm died down. I expected to reach up and feel wet hair on my head. I expected to have to change my socks when I got home.
Limber Pine
Being bendy can mean survival in the strangest, oddest, and most difficult of circumstances. Bowing to and with the storm is the practice for hovering over that cliff and then snapping back to where you were.
The Fear and the Thin Line
And I was scared. Not the heart-pounding, I-have-to-get-out-of-here-scared, rather an intense awareness of my aloneness.
The Vanishing 29th
It’s a day that does exist consistently but intermittently; it comes along every four years only to go into hiding afterwards. Maybe that’s why it’s fresh enough to perform the re-alignment. To do Atlassian work but with a four-year breather.