Belonging, not Owning
Nature does not ask to be seen, but those who observe with respect uncover a language older than words. Every sprout survives the winter, every leaf that burns in color, every insect that lives in silence is an act of truth. It is not here to decorate our view, but to remind us we belong, not rule. This is not landscape: it is an altar. A living body that breathes with us, even when we forget how to listen. To honor it is the most human act left to us. Perhaps the most urgen one too.
