Where the Wind Knows
“For those who drift softly, yet bravely, toward their dreams believing
in the wind and the story waiting quietly in the sky.”
The snow is melting again. You can almost hear it.. tiny drops sliding off the grass, whispering that winter’s changing its mind. The sun peeks out just enough to make everything glow. And somewhere nearby, a Mama Sheep is sharing her food with her two little ones, patient and kind as ever. It’s quiet.. except for the sound of wings.
The geese are flying again.
Every year, I watch them and think they’re just like us. The dreamers. The illustrators, the writers. Always searching, always moving towards something that feels a little like purpose. They don’t always know where they’re going, but they trust the sky anyway.
That’s brave, isn’t it? To fly even when the clouds look heavy.
They remind me that creating, drawing, writing, imagining.. it’s a kind of migration too. We go where our hearts take us, hoping the winds are kind, knowing that even if they’re not, we’ll still find something beautiful along the way.
Because really, what’s life without a little courage to make something that never existed before?
The air smells like grass and cold and something hopeful. The world feels new but familiar foggy mornings, shy flowers, a few stubborn patches of snow. My favorite kind of in-between. November always feels like that to me a gentle promise that things change, but not all at once.
Briony May Smith once wrote that stories are what tie us to the impossible and I think that’s true, because I feel it too!
Emily Winfield Martin, in Snow & Rose, said, “Even in the darkest woods, there’s always a bit of light if you look for it.”And dear Beatrix Potter my forever comfort said, “There’s something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you.”
Maybe that’s what the geese know too. They just start flying.
So here’s to us drifting, dreaming, drawing, & writing.
To the courage it takes to lift off when the world feels still.
Because somehow, the journey always finds us right where we’re meant to land.
