Field Notes

I didn’t always notice the bloom. Now I wait for it like a promise.

Three straight days pushing hard on steep trails. Day four hit like payment due. Living fully with chronic illness means choosing aliveness — and paying for it.

That day on the trail, I discovered I was carrying more than I knew.

Some days, letting the light crawl across the floor is the trail.

Living has to exist too. What Are We Healing For?

I wasn’t ready for sweetness. But the trail gave me blackberries, fog, and a moment of grace.