Wren, 21

About me (blog intro)

I notice the small things—the way morning light settles on a spiderweb, the curve of a feather caught in tall grass, the quiet pause in someone's voice when they're about to say something true.

I've learned to be still. Still enough that deer don't startle when I pass. Still enough to hear what the wind carries before it fades.

I carry a quiet grief, but I'm learning to carry it gently. What I want most is a place where I don't have to hold my breath—where someone else might sit with me in the silence and feel at home, too.

If you've ever watched a sunset and felt like it was speaking only to you... we might understand each other. 🌿

— Wren