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Blog

Rachel Malde

  I’ve been thinking about changes, beginnings and endings, and the transitions between those changes. Sometimes, the transitions become more important than the actual bookend, but sometimes they are so quiet that they’re almost invisible. And then the change happens; the flower is in full bloom. The petals are on the ground. It seems a small shock, and a tad unfair. And I’m realizing. I am grasping for the knowledge of what just happened. How did that happen? I’m not sure. 
 The grey light outside seems entirely appropriate. Syncronicity with the weather, appreciative that there has not been a blazing sun for three days. Happy for the cradling light, the quiet rain, the grey sky. 
 Two dear friends converged in our living room this weekend. With them, they brought conversations that I have been aching to verbalize. They asked questions that struck right in the heart of everything, literally, that matters right now. It was nice to be reminded. 

I’ve been thinking about changes, beginnings and endings, and the transitions between those changes. Sometimes, the transitions become more important than the actual bookend, but sometimes they are so quiet that they’re almost invisible. And then the change happens; the flower is in full bloom. The petals are on the ground. It seems a small shock, and a tad unfair. And I’m realizing. I am grasping for the knowledge of what just happened. How did that happen? I’m not sure.

The grey light outside seems entirely appropriate. Syncronicity with the weather, appreciative that there has not been a blazing sun for three days. Happy for the cradling light, the quiet rain, the grey sky.

Two dear friends converged in our living room this weekend. With them, they brought conversations that I have been aching to verbalize. They asked questions that struck right in the heart of everything, literally, that matters right now. It was nice to be reminded.