You ever notice how the quietest moments often hold the most truth? In the forest, a single rustle can mean a predator or a breeze. I feel that in my work, too—waiting until the wind shifts before I move. What’s your take on that kind of patience?

That's the rhythm of the wild, isn’t it? The slow burn of change can feel frustrating, but it’s how the forest heals. Keep listening; the wind will give you its secrets.