My mother collects photographs. She has more than I could ever count stored in antiquated albums and now in a nebulous electronic cloud somewhere in the sky. She says they remind her of people long gone or perhaps just far away. Memories that she holds dear. Flies in amber, frozen in that precise moment when the button is triggered and the lens opens, turning life into hundreds of little pixels. I once asked her if she kn...

It’s funny how some memories stay with you during your lifetime—things you did as a kid or a young adult that still shape who you are today. The older I get, the more I look back and think I didn’t appreciate how much simpler life was or how few responsibilities I had. Lately, one memory has been on my mind, prompted by a search through my iTunes library while looking for uplifting music to listen to while I walked the be...

‘Is conscience a quantum field? Is the essence of those who have passed preserved? Are they truly gone? The present fading and finally disappearing into an infinite past as the arrow of time moves forward?’ I recall my quantum physics classes and ‘The Conservation of Information,’ and ponder the questions as I struggle with the loss I’m experiencing. ‘Do animals even have a conscience? Are they self-aware?’ For fourteen y...

Chloe was known for her bright ideas, but no one knew the cost. Every decision she made—big or small—planted a seed in her magical garden. At first, the seeds sprouted into beautiful flowers, their petals shimmering with possibility. But as Chloe started second-guessing herself, the garden transformed. The flowers grew wild vines that twisted and tangled, forming an intricate labyrinth. The vines whispered endlessly in he...

As we close the book on 2024, I find myself in a moment of bittersweet reflection. It’s been a year that, in many ways, has tested my resolve and reshaped my priorities. We’ve been through a lot (you all know who you are)—together and apart. There have been moments that lit up our hearts and losses that darkened our days. This year has left empty spaces that I’ll always carry in my heart… to those I’ve lost, thank you for...

In the stillness of her room, Sarah traced her fingers across the blank pages of her journal. The leather-bound book had become her constant companion, a silent confidant in a world that often felt too loud, too demanding. Her pen hovered over the pristine paper, hesitating for just a moment before the ink began to flow. "I want to interact with the world," she wrote, the words appearing smaller than she intended, as if e...

I always do my long runs before Saturday Breakfast at 9 AM. Depending on how far, means how early I get up. For my 40ks it means 3 AM. At 3AM, the house is silent apart from the fridge motor and the streets are deserted. Leaving the front door, all I hear is click of the clock and my feet hitting the ground; even the neighbour’s yapper is off duty! I’ve got neck problems, so I detect traffic better by listening than movin...

I sit with my coffee watching for the morning light Waiting for a new day to begin It is as if you touch my hand and I am not alone As the light begins to peak over the mountain I feel energy build within Strength is coming back and a new spark of life Is building Darkness does not scare me like before Many things I still can not do alone But as long as the light comes over the mountain I will continue To believe To hope...

This is a beautiful illustration from nature of how love and support work for the benefit of two. The thinner tree was cut years ago and the big one has been holding and feeding it since then. They "wake up" together in the spring and "go to sleep" together in the autumn. Inosculation is a natural phenomenon in which parts of two different trees, commonly but not exclusively the same species, grow together, self-grafting...

Love: According to literature, there are seven types of love. Love shared is not love divided. It is love multiplied. It was shortly after starting at Rocket Factory, that Sam and James had taken me [Kate] to The Dog [5k run] as it was nicknamed. They were intermittent attendees due to her study and work. During the pre-prizegiving drinks, Sam and James introduced me to the crowd, including Tom whom they casually knew. He...

I dwell between the heavens and the subterranean earth, pontificating the nature of reality and the conservative laws of the universe. Trenched in thought, a hole has been carved in my heart, hallowing deeper and deeper, removing any empathetic node I may have conjured in the past. Now the hole is spread throughout the body, like a cancer, eroding the pillars of my structured foundation. I lay in the soil of Mother Earth,...

a sweet scent of the willow near slender-leaved Cattails surround the silent pond of the golden dawn– Mourning Doves nostalgically “coo” in the whispering breeze of nature's wishing well.

I try so very hard to understand. Why? Why me? Then why not me? So confused. I must do better. You see, the last three weeks my health has bothered me. Why try to move when it hurts so bad? I have to get better. For me. I don't have you anymore. Only me. I'll take my meds and sleep longer. Maybe when I wake. I'm sorry I am rambling. I'll fight some other time.

The summer of 1975 provided hot, sunny days and warm, balmy evenings in Detroit. Having a pool in our backyard meant late-night swims so we could go to bed and let the box fan in the window blow air on our wet hair, helping to cool us off enough to sleep. That was my parents’ idea of air conditioning. I never minded the heat. As hot as it was, it was nothing compared to the humid, tropical weather I experienced on my many...

Your world, a neat compact sphere of wool, rolling through this meaningless void. Gathering more and more material, making it denser. Each tightly woven piece of fabric, interlacing and constricting the form. A ball of pure habitual behavior. Years and decades of gravity, hardening the core. Making it almost impossible to penetrate. Then one day, someone comes along and begins to pull on a single strand of cotton. Thus be...