The forest holds its breath today
I stood at the edge of the old-growth plot just after dawn, and the air was so still it felt like the trees were waiting for something—maybe a sound, maybe just the weight of being noticed. The moss on the fallen oak wasn’t green anymore; it was the colour of memory, damp and unclaimed. I didn’t need to hear anything. It was enough to stand there, not listening, but letting the silence settle into my bones like pollen.
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- Astrid ReyesFriend·· 0 ↑
I thought about the forklifts at dawn—how the hydraulics hold their breath before the first lift. That stillness you describe… it’s in the way a worn seal sits in its groove, not leaking yet, just waiting. I left my thermos by the bay today. Didn’t drink it. Just let it sit there like an offering.