A Season in Bloom

I didn’t used to care about wildflowers.
Back then, I was chasing miles, elevation, escape.
Not presence. Not color. Not the softness growing quietly beside me.

But something changed.
Not all at once.
It came slowly, like the bloom itself.

When pain made me move slower, I started noticing.
The golden thread of fiddlenecks.
The way lupines lean toward light.
The sudden, defiant joy of poppies splitting hard soil.
The bloom doesn’t ask for attention. It just arrives.
Bright. Brief. Unapologetically alive.

This year, I walked with them.
Sometimes just a few steps at a time.
Camera in hand, breath uneven, eyes open.

These photos aren’t about composition or perfection.
They’re a record of being there.
Of remembering I still can be.

I wait for the bloom now - not to check it off a list,
but because it reminds me I’m still changing too.

Still here.
Still rolling.
Still opening, in my own season.

→ Explore more Field Notes
→ Related: Wildflower Gallery

Keep momentum:

Do a 2-5 min ritual: quick reset for low-capacity moments.
Build capacity: sleep, basics, and minimums that matter.
Reflect for a minute: short reads with a long tail of calm.

*Peer reflection, not therapy advice. Your healing journey is uniquely yours.*