Catch and Cradle

by Katia Rose

She’s always moving, just like the ocean, and maybe that’s why I’ve been fighting not to sit and stare at her the way I stare at the shoreline since the day she showed up for tryouts two years ago.

She’s a whole universe slowly unfolding itself in front of me, and there’s something humbling and precious about that.

I’ve always noticed her. I’ve always felt her like a change in seasons, like a shift of scents and colours, of sounds in the air and wind on my skin. Sometimes she’s the first crackle of dried leaves in the fall and sometimes she’s the mud and melting of spring, but she’s always a change. She’s always a collection of warning signs there to remind me I spend every day of my life pulled around the sun by a force I can’t feel or see.

Maybe sometimes you just need to take the damn shot and stop worrying about what everyone else will say.