This morning, I placed a simple wreath on the fence by the beach—not just for the season, but as a small marker of reflection in a world that feels increasingly complex. As the sun rose, its light threaded directly through the circle of greens, transforming it into something more than an ornament. It felt like a quiet threshold, a moment asking what we choose to honor amid all the noise, change, and uncertainty that shape our days. The fence stood weathered but steady, leaning slightly toward the water as if listening, as if reminding me that we, too, hold our ground despite the winds that move through us. Standing there in that early stillness, I reflected on the symbolism of my intentions—it was an offering, a question made visible against the morning sky.
May this season bring you light where you need it most, warmth in unexpected places, and a gentle pause to breathe in all that’s still good and glowing in the world.
What We Choose to Honor by Ocean Eversley©2025
I fastened the wreath to the fence
not just for decoration,
but to mark a threshold—
a place where the season turns
and something in me listens.
The sun rose through its circle
as if testing the idea of return,
reminding me that light
does not promise permanence,
only presence.
The fence leaned toward the water,
each slat holding its own weathered truth—
that we are shaped by the winds
we never asked to carry,
yet we stand anyway.
And in that soft, unguarded hour,
the wreath became a question:
what do we choose to honor
in such a complex world,
and what quiet faith keeps us walking
toward the sea of gratitude, peace, love,
forgiveness, and generosity again?