Make Slow Moments
<p>There’s an exact moment in the woods when the sun first yawns its early morning strands of light through the trees. Branches and trunks split in two — one side blazing gold, the other a deep umber. Shadows and peaks of fire undulate through the ground; the troughs of turned soil compete with golden-tipped piles of leaves. On clearer days, lavender skies blanket the lighter textures of the forest in a haze of red wine.</p>
<p>Of course, this moment occurs all over the world, but I first experienced it on my bike, in a small tangle of trails near Detroit, Michigan. In a moment of agony after ripping my soul up a too-early-for-this-shit climb, I stopped to rest, soaking in the beauty of the rising morning. Thoughts of work and mortgages dissolved into nature. Mother earth pushed my reset button and embraced me with the comforting coo of rustling trees.</p>
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