“The seasons are a primary gateway connecting the human world with the ongoing revelation of creation, renewal, growth, decay, and death that underpins the cyclical nature of the more-than-human world. Each season, regardless of how it manifests and expresses itself in a specific place, offers a myriad of experiences that can deepen the ties of kinship and reciprocity between the human and more-than-human, while also creating wonder, awe, fear, and, ultimately, a reverence for the living world.”

~ Emmanual Vaughan-Lee, Emergence Magazine, Vol. 6, Seasons, 2025

I think I have been longing to write the numbers 2 0 2 6 in my correspondences for quite some time now. Unlike some years when one is stuck writing the old year’s date well into February, I have a feeling it will not be difficult to train myself in the new habit this time around.

It’s not that the past year was notably bad for me or that it was a year I was exceptionally eager to move on from. But it moved fast and furious from day one and caused its fair share of destruction along the way. It was a year that seemed ready to remind us, at every corner’s turn, of the world’s suffering, the dissolution of things, the utterly absurd actions by people in power, and the perversions of truth and logic that they too often perpetuated.

When faced with these scenes of tragedy and pain throughout the year, I often retreated into myself. Contrary to my profession, I found myself, more often than not, wanting to drop communication and go silent. I took refuge in helping the people and organizations I serve speak their truths, but I rarely stepped out of my solitary corner to put my own thoughts into language that could somehow articulate what I was seeing and feeling. Not only was I at a loss for words, I was at a loss for sense-making and story in the midst of so much chaos. I buried myself deeper in my work, like a mole burrowing into the dark soil, kicking flecks of dirt against the openings to the sky.

Now, at this threshold of another year, I sense an opening in me and in the world that is calling me forward. The pain of remaining still, the discomfort brought on by inertia and inarticulation has become too much. I am heavy with it. I am ready to step through to a different way of being in the world, even if I’m not entirely sure what awaits.

A few weeks back, I attended a small gathering of writers, thinkers, poets, storytellers, and their fans to celebrate the launch of Emergence Magazine’s sixth annual print issue, Seasons. I’d never purchased or read any of the previous issues. Getting my copy at the event was my first experience of beholding such a tome of imagination, visuals, and thoughts. It’s a work of art, a masterpiece. Countless pages full of photos, snips of poetry, stories, deeply reflective essays, and images. Talk about story!

I was longing for the tactile experience of ideas that a new print book or magazine in hand can often bring. Intuition told me that joining a gathering of similarly inclined folk on a dark November evening in Point Reyes for the Seasons launch would bring the inspiration I needed to come out of my shell a bit. The event coincided with a ripening of my own personal season of insight where I was starting to make clearer sense of the year’s frayed edges. It came at the culmination of all the inner wrestling with life that I’d been feeling up to that point. It was good for my soul.

Reading Seasons and reflecting on its contents reminds me of life’s rhythms and the possibilities that come with change. However arbitrary the start of a new calendar year is in bringing about change, it does seem to do the trick! I am ready for change. I am ready for a fresh start, a shift in energy, focus, and perspective.

These last days of December and first days of 2026 have been a tremendous gift from which I’ve been able to discern and reflect. With no urgencies tugging at me, I’ve dreamt a little more, dabbled with watercolor on canvas, written my thoughts down with pen on paper, immersed myself in music, and gotten acquainted with some new video editing tools.

This Ode to Seasons captures a little of the magic I’ve collected during my November and December walks that I thought I’d share with you. In contrast to other parts of the world, late fall and winter here in Northern California are a time when the region’s flora and fauna seem come alive again with the season’s rains. Even in the dark of these times, seasonal and otherwise, there is so much life to behold.