On fear, humility, and gratitude beneath grey skies.
This morning the sky was grey and heavy,
but the ground still dry,
the valley still holding its breath.
I thought of the fires of 2017,
how fear lingers in us long after the flames.
The animals, though — they went on grazing,
singing, crowing, barking —
unconcerned with our human sense of foreboding.
Aurora stood alert at the bush,
ears tuned to something unseen.
And I wondered:
perhaps we are not apex predators after all,
but prey made humble —
sometimes by nature itself,
sometimes by other humans
who would rather keep us small,
fighting instead of becoming whole.
And then — the rain came.
Soft, gentle, long-awaited.
It was a reminder that what we truly need
is not more battles,
but more water,
more trust,
more gratitude.