After a snowfall, I ventured into Pisgah National Forest, eager to witness the interplay of light and shadow. The blue shadows cast by trees on pristine snow captivates me. How intense could that blue truly be? I had imagined a painting that encapsulated not only the depth of those blues and warm white light of the sun but also the promise of spring, a delicate reminder of the seasons’ transformations.

Each season breathes new life into my surroundings, marking the passage of time and the cyclical nature of existence. As I wander and seek out these changes for reassurance, I find myself standing in my place in the world, navigating through days, seasons, and years with a sense of wonder that seems appropriate to the measure of miracle. There is a rhythm to this, a poetic unfolding of seasons that connects us to the earth and to each other. Through this lens, every snowfall becomes more than just a weather event; it is a moment of renewal, a chapter marker, an illustration that I got here and so did you, in the larger story of life.