October light

October light

October has always felt like home to me. The air turns tender, the light softens, and everything, sky, field, and heart, seems to breathe a little slower. It was my mom’s favorite month, and maybe that’s why I feel her presence in the quiet moments, when the wind...
Morning routine

Morning routine

Mornings here aren’t rushed, they unfold. The sun peeks over horizon, warming the tops of the cedar trees and sending long golden shadows across the pasture. I step onto the porch with coffee in hand, still barefoot, still waking up myself. It’s quiet, but not silent....
Someone who is still out there

Someone who is still out there

There’s a particular kind of grief that doesn’t come with a funeral. No flowers. No casseroles. Just quiet absence. It’s the loss of someone who’s still out there, living, breathing, carrying on, but not in your life anymore. Maybe it was a slow fade. Maybe it was a...
Horses

Horses

There’s a quiet kind of healing that happens when you stand beside a horse. It’s not loud or dramatic. It doesn’t come with fanfare or applause. It comes in stillness—in the soft exhale of a warm breath, the calm gaze of a deep brown eye, the rhythm of hooves meeting...
Grace-my guiding principle

Grace-my guiding principle

In a world that often urges us to chase after more, I’ve found peace in embracing less. By choosing to live intentionally, I focus on what truly matters, letting go of the need for constant validation or outcomes. Grace has become my guiding principle—extending it to...