https://flic.kr/p/rNRLaR | Edges of Then and Now... | The wind is cold but warm enough to carry the scent of earth on its back. The clouds in the sky seem to dance more than lumber. And I think I hear the birds saying my name when they speak to me.
https://flic.kr/p/EduVv1 | Maybe We Spoke Too Soon... | Deep within that space, where you are no longer inhaling or exhaling but just being, lives a force. It has no secret. It's just waiting for its name to be called.