Winter field
The frost did not arrive to erase the field.
It came to slow it down.
What remains standing here is not stubbornness,
but agreement —
between what was,
and what is not ready to leave yet.
Each frozen reed carries the memory of movement.
Each stillness is temporary,
but necessary.
This image was taken on a winter morning
when the landscape chose to pause,
not to disappear.
six-blocks 