Lately, life has felt nonstop. Between work and obligations, I lost track of my own breath. This photo and the poem that followed are a reminder that sometimes the best direction is simply to pause and be present.

In the fading light of Webster Woods, an old gear offered a quiet lesson: some stories endure, not through grandeur, but through quiet strength and memory.

A quiet reflection on the unseen strength that holds us together, inspired by rusted bolts found during an Olympic Photo Club walk in Sequim, WA.