Change; anchors

I look out the window. Every time I look I notice change: the ambering of leaves that are still green in my memory, the movement of clouds as they go from one end of the sky to the other, the movement of leaves as they sway to-and-fro with the light morning breeze; some mornings I see birds in the trees; yesterday I had the pleasure of seeing a small bird take flight, soaring to another tree.I look at the trees outside and see the leaves that have been changing colour for a while, and those in the early stages of change. I think back to a realisation I had a while ago about how everything changes at its own pace. The warmth from my cooling cup of morning tea radiates as I think about the morning, and change.My university textbooks for next year arrived yesterday. I am looking forward to skimming through them – to building the first stages of a mental map. I looked through the reference notes yesterday and saw a mention of an artist whose work I was reading about earlier this week, in…