Blue has been trailing me lately, showing up in places where I wasn’t expecting it to be, nudging me to slow down, breathe deeper, and pay attention. When I stood at the edge of the shoreline in Maui, Hawaii staring into

I felt the whole world tilt into calm. The water shifted from turquoise to indigo so effortlessly it reminded me how often I complicate things that are meant to flow. The waves carried their own language, and for a moment, I swear they were speaking directly to me. Later, wandering through my yard, I found myself stopping mid-step for

That tiny blue flower looked like it had stolen its color from the morning sky — soft, quiet, and holding more strength than its delicate petals wanted anyone to know. I felt an odd kinship with it, both of us blooming even when no one is watching.

Driving down FM 753 in Athens heading towards Malakoff, I watched the clouds gather themselves into a masterpiece.

stretched across the horizon like the sky had pulled out every shade of blue it owned. I rolled the window down, letting the wind rush in, feeling small in the best way — small like part of something bigger, not insignificant.

Maui, Hawaii, a different day in November while we were there, a different light.

felt like a quiet reminder to drift sometimes instead of rowing so hard. I watched that little boat, living so simply between sea and sky, and wished I could bottle up its peace. Blue found me again driving over a bridge in Trinidad

The stillness was so complete that the reflection looked sharper than reality. The water didn’t ripple, almost as if it didn’t want to disturb the moment. I stood there longer than I meant to, letting the mirrored trees steady something in me. And then — because the sky loves to surprise me — it opened a perfect doorway right above my car in

A clean break in the blanket of white, revealing a patch of pure, vivid blue as if heaven had cracked the door and peeked back at me. Blue keeps showing up in my life like that — calm but insistent, soft but bold, stretching, soothing, reminding me to look up, look out, and sometimes look inward.

Each of these photos is a piece of that journey. A reminder that peace doesn’t shout. It glows.