I've always wondered why I can't stop staring at the horizon.
Maybe it's because every day it's different.
Maybe it's because if I stop looking, I'll miss something.
Or maybe it's because it's the place where the sky and the earth become one endless picture... and somehow, I get to be the witness of it.
The tide never asks whether you're ready.
It simply arrives, leaves, and returns again.
If you're there, you get to witness it.
If you're not, that's okay.
You'll simply catch a different tide another day.
I've spent years trying to understand its rhythm.
I've never quite figured it out.
And somewhere along the way, I realized I didn't need to.
Some mysteries are more beautiful when they remain mysteries.
The crow was never supposed to become part of the story.
It simply kept showing up.
At first, I noticed him.
Then I started watching for him.
And somewhere along the way, the difference between those two things disappeared.
He arrived when he arrived.
Stayed as long as he stayed.
And somehow, ordinary moments began to feel a little less ordinary.
I could tell you all the reasons a crow might return to the same place.
But I think I prefer the reason I don't know.
Maybe not everything that finds us needs an explanation.
Sometimes, it's enough to notice that it came.