I sped up the hill cautiously and tipped my bike in a hidden corner of a hairpin curve.
It was my fear that made me do it.
I stand with feet shoulder-width apart, attempting to slow my breath, each inhale deeper than the previous one.
No seed, when it is planted, sprouts instantly. It needs fertile ground, nourishment, and time.
Ideas are similar. Rarely do they appear in our minds fully formed and ready for action. They need tending and patience and room to grow.
We had a new friend over for dinner recently. A filmmaker by training and an outdoor enthusiast.