The iris are budding up outside and this morning on my walk I saw a field mouse scurry its’ way across the road stopping for breaks in the craters of old puddles. I can smell the hawthorn trees when the sun shines and for the first time last week it smelled like that baked concrete of summer while I left the grocery store.
So lovely, Chelsea. Thanks for reminding us to heed the call of our internal (humanitarian) compass and not fall into the realm of being merely numbly alive.
So lovely, Chelsea. Thanks for reminding us to heed the call of our internal (humanitarian) compass and not fall into the realm of being merely numbly alive.
Nils Frahm is a favorite. So glad you've found him!
Very cleansing thoughts in such troubled times! Thank you
yes yes yes yes yes yes
(Petrichor- that rain on pavement smell)