sometimes the quietest thoughts speak the loudest. This is a collection of moments - observations, questions, and wanderings that unfold like paper birds.
each entry stands alone, yet together they tell a story of stillness, of seeing the world through eyes that notice the spaces between seconds and the weight of unspoken words.
join me 6 times a week for a new moment of pause and a longer version on Sunday Mornings.
Rain taps the tin roof like a pianist playing scales in minor key
The melody evolves:
Soft patter grows insistent
Rhythm quickens to crescendo
Downpour drowns all other sound
March conducts with a heavy hand
Why do the coldest rains feel most alive?