Lingering in Warmth

As a child, I remember wandering slowly through fields filled with little flowers, stopping for no particular reason other than to admire the blooms around me. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. I would watch petals sway in the breeze, follow insects as they disappeared amongst the blossoms, and lose myself in a sea of soft pinks and greens. When I close my eyes, I can still feel the warm sunshine brushing against my cheeks. Nothing extraordinary was happening, yet it never felt ordinary.

Looking back, I realise that many of the wonders I remember from childhood revealed themselves not because they were rare, but because I was willing to linger. Children seem to instinctively understand how to slow down. They can spend long moments watching a flower dance in the wind or become completely absorbed in the smallest details.

As adults, we move quickly through familiar places, where productivity and speed are often demanded. I wonder whether the world has become less magical, or whether some wonders simply reveal themselves when we move slowly enough to notice them. Through this work, I hope to offer a gentle reminder to slow down. You are allowed moments of stillness. You are allowed to linger, to be present, and to simply exist without the need to rush. Perhaps wonder is not something we must search for, but something that quietly reveals itself when we give ourselves permission to pause.