the light through the canyon walls this time of year it slants different. sharper. like it's trying to carve something new out of the stone. i keep waiting for it to carve something new out of me too but maybe that's not how it works maybe i have to do the carving. and maybe all this stillness is just sharpening the blade. it’s like the desert is holding its breath right now… waiting for the spring to crack it open or the winter to bury it deeper either way it will be reborn. we always are. even when it feels like the dying is all there is.