Nature never asks an oak to produce leaves in the middle of winter. A fox conserves energy when food is scarce. Seeds remain dormant until conditions allow growth.
Winter is never a failed spring.
None of these is a failure: they are expressions of wisdom.
Perhaps human beings have forgotten that wisdom. Perhaps we confuse relentless effort with courage. Perhaps real courage is knowing when to reduce sail.
I read under trees whose names I don’t know. I write in cafés whose menus I don’t understand but whose coffee is exactly what I need.
I keep moving, like the tide; like Artemis, always on the edge of the wild.
