As humans, we measure time in seconds, minutes, hours, and days. But for creatures who can live thousands of years or only a few days, how do they perceive time’s passing?
Our lives are mercilessly filled with the cacophony of hustle and bustle. When I need to get away from it all, I like to take a break by aiming my eyes upward, towards a different world, one that exists in the canopies just above my head.
An ode to the special relationship that humans have with water.
During my last visit to the beach, I came upon some impressive flocks of birds. There were some small, some large—both the birds and the great groups they huddled in. White, greys, black, tan, and little specks of orange clustered together and flitted about.
What makes a houseplant happy? We share a few stories and lessons of our own from a few years of growing up with our leaf-bearing friends.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a fascination with the ocean. I’m not sure exactly what draws me to it. But seeing it always leaves me feeling exhilarated and at peace at the same time. Regardless of the time of day, regardless of the weather—I could watch it for hours.
How do we hold on to the delight that we felt during those days when we were out exploring, discovering, and learning something new?
It’s the million dollar question—how do we predict the future? We work tirelessly to understand what the future holds, dedicating our lives towards something we can’t even see. Why are we so enamored with the future?
Some of nature’s best gifts to us really do grow on trees: the most succulent oranges, the most fragrant almonds, or the juiciest peaches. Here, we take a few moments to consider the bounty of fruits and vegetables that we might eat every day, but which are delectable and life-giving in more ways than one.
I am one person. A single entity in a sea of entities. If I were to depart my body for a moment and rise into the air, up and up and up, and then look down at my physical form from this new vantage point…I’d be a speck indistinguishable from the masses.
As darkness falls and the last of the sun’s light begins to fade, a particular stillness sets in, inviting us to take a moment to contemplate the beauty of dusk.
Light. It enables us to see, but we cannot see it. We can only observe its effects on the world around us. It’s the bright edge amidst darkened angles, the dappled shadows, the reflected field of white.
We often notice patterns as pleasingly symmetrical decorations: the ornamentation on the rim of a plate, perhaps, or a tiled border in a repeating motif on the floor. However, patterns are easily found just about anywhere, even with just a little bit of searching.
Even the most boring of weeks has its charming points. To remind myself of life’s simple joys, I chronicled the mundane elements of one week from my life.