Here in the Pacific Northwest, we are ruled by forces of water: tidal, meteorological, glacial.
They remind us of the youth of our geography: our rocky beaches and jagged peaks, carved by the methodical hands of ice and time.
They tell us of the pull of things: that the forces that draw water towards us and away are constant, unchanging, endless.
There is a feeling to all of this, a sense of balance and rightness and repetition. By this definition, there is nothing new on this earth, and there is a measure of comfort in that knowledge: the rain will come down, and the tide will turn, and water will shape the land, each without regard for anything but its own purpose.
And yet, there are small things that locate us in the landscape of this greater design: the wonder of finding something old or somehow familiar, that falls into the grain of your life and grows into something you've never experienced before. A quiet magic in everyday things.
A pair of boots, a favorite coffee cup, a blanket. A stone. A rainy day.
Photography: Melody Hirsch
Jacket: Magnolia Jacket, by Cory Ellen Boberg
Dress: Vintage Hal Ferman dress, from the amazing Trove Vintage Boutique
Socks: Waving Lace Socks by Evelyn Clark
Boots: Fluevog Adriana Nuni