A day, a puff of cool air.
Fog fingering through dappling boughs as it greets the promising sun.
A river, and my steady footsteps.
For too long I accepted the herd’s definition of perfection.
For too long I ate quickly, and the food wasn’t real.
For too long I ignored the call out my window.
I was trying to be just like everyone else, after all.
I listen to the notes now: green, or quiet,
or shimmering and spicy.
Warm or cold, fluttering or bushy,
A shadow is like a friend with secrets.
I listen now.
Photography: Endert's Trail Flowers by Shawn Michel de Montaigne