This summer, when we visited Marysville, we found ourselves drawn once again to the mountain stream — the one that runs clear and cold through the town, even when the heat settles heavily over the valley. It feels like part of Marysville’s heartbeat, weaving alongside the main street and through the parklands where families gather…
Tag: Silence
Between Breaths
New Year’s Eve is the night when time asks us to look back. Not with nostalgia, but with honesty. It is not a celebration so much as a reckoning — an inventory of moments that never asked to be remembered but stayed anyway. The conversations that altered us. The silences that taught us more than…
The Beauty of Advent
There is a unique beauty in Advent, a quietness that settles over the heart like soft morning light. It is a season that invites us to slow down, and to make room again for hope. While the world around us begins to rush, Advent whispers a different rhythm — one of waiting, watching, and listening….
Nordic Living
I’m sitting here with a mug of tea in hand, simply contemplating life. The steam curls upward, carrying with it a quiet reminder that even the smallest rituals can anchor us. Today was a day off, and though I haven’t done anything particularly noteworthy, I’ve been reminding myself that sometimes the most productive thing we…
Ink from Pain
I recently joined a writing group that meets at a local church — something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. It’s become one of my favourite outings now, this gathering of minds and hearts, of stories and pens. There’s something grounding about sitting in a quiet room with others who feel compelled to…
The Day I Trembled
I stood at the gates of eternity. Not metaphorically. Not in some dreamy, poetic sense. I stood there — suspended between breath and no breath, between the beating heart and silence. Between earth… and heaven. The cord of life has always been fragile — delicate as silk, invisible as breath. Mine thinned to almost nothing….
We Call on Him
For a number of years, Peter and I shared a quiet ritual with our dear friends, Stephen and his late wife Wendy. We each brought a song — something that spoke to us in that season of life — and took turns playing them, sitting together in conversation, letting the lyrics lead us to places…
Miss You Most
When the lilacs begin to bloom and the forest floor turns into a sea of white lily of the valley, that is when I miss you most of all. The air grows heavy with perfume, drifting through my memories like mist through birch trees — soft and persistent, quietly calling me back. When your nights…
Breathing Again
Autumn is my spring. While others come alive with the first blossoms and the lengthening days of spring, I stir awake with the falling leaves — with the crisp bite in the air and the golden hush that settles gently across the world. It’s as though something deep within me has been lying dormant through…
The Sacred Pause
To grow, we must rest. It’s a truth woven deep into the rhythm of life — so obvious in nature, yet so easily forgotten in the noise of our busy days. But the earth remembers. Even the richest soil must needs to take a break. Rest is not the end of life — it is…
Apples of Gold 