Exploring silence and stillness through quiet transformation in the natural world

I spend a lot of time outdoors, and this winter, outings with my dog became an opportunity to reflect on silence and stillness within the natural world—a thought exercise that also served as a mindfulness practice.

I observed how stillness is not void of life. Even in winter’s quiet, change is constant: new vines unfurl tendrils, a patch of mushrooms quietly claim a stump. These subtle, often unnoticed transformations are a reminder that life persists, even in moments of apparent stillness.

I also reflected on how silence and stillness inhabit the quiet, liminal spaces of our days—like delicate smoke rising from an extinguished match. These moments feel suspended, marked by the evidence of recent activity, hinting at human presence and interaction.

The brass bowl captures this interplay of nature and humanity. It holds burnt matches, a pebble, and an unidentified mollusk shell I gathered from a rocky Northern California coastline. A stone holds up a red-tailed hawk feather collected from the woods. Each item is a small relic, a testament to the interplay between stillness, change, and the stories we leave behind.