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A playmate in my growing years. An encyclopedia for self-discovery in the questioning ones. A guide that taught me how to observe. A place I return to when I need solace. The outdoors has been an all-weather companion. Over time, I learnt that all beings have seasons. They reset. They strain. They endure stress—often with far fewer buffers than we have. Watching butterflies in the morning sun, I learnt that wings need time to warm before they can be trusted to fly. From barnacles, anemones, and crabs, I learnt something else. That holding still is not giving up. That endurance and adaptation don’t always look like movement. Being outdoors never made me feel like a visitor. It made me feel patterned alongside other life. Sharing the same light. The same tides. The same weather. Once, as a 3-yr-old I found a small fish in the rain formed puddles outside my home. It felt like finding a secret. I ran in to bring over a Horlicks jar so I can take a little wilderness ho...
