Standing at the Edge of a New Year
There is something quietly powerful about this moment—the pause before a new year begins.
Hope shows up first, as it often does. Not loud or fully formed, but present. A small, steady wingbeat. The sense that something good may be possible, even if we can’t yet name it.
And alongside that hope, there is wonder. Curiosity about what might unfold. Who we might meet. What beauty will surprise us when we least expect it—on a winter walk, in a shared silence, in the sudden flash of feathers against a gray sky.
But if we’re honest, there is fear here too. The kind that comes with change. With uncertainty. With stepping forward without a full map. A new year always asks something of us before it gives anything back.
Birds know this edge well. Migration is not certainty—it’s instinct paired with courage. They don’t wait for perfect conditions. They move when it’s time.
As we step into this new year together, my hope is not that everything feels easy or resolved, but that we allow ourselves to stay open. To notice. To keep choosing connection—to birds, to place, to one another—even when the path ahead feels unclear.
Thank you for standing at this edge with us. We’re grateful for this community, and for all that we’ll discover together in the year ahead.
See You Outside!