The moon was unveiled by the shadows and clouds looming in the sky. Opalescent as the glowing light of a waning gibbous, against the dark azure night sky grew darker. My heart, always in a state of waxing, hopes this serves as an omen of goodness and light ahead
I dreamt of Bottecelli angels flying above my head, as I slept their cool wings beat and a few feathers fall, landing on my bed. These sacred omens, these silent whispers
Winter for me is not snowflakes nor walks through the woods. It is not rainy skies and birdsong. However, as these few glimpses of photographic points can tell, it has been filled with paintbrushes and artistic nourishment, dawn to dusk and bloom – as well as growth. Growth is never easy but an inevitable lesson. Like the seasons that morph and change, we must adapt to the transitions that come our way, learn to be there for one another. In a world with so many individuals and strangers – do we not owe it to ourselves and others to give benevolence, whole heartedly?