Katherine Nicolai

Moment to moment, it could be both. And in the spring, as the world leapt into color, opportunities to notice, to pay calm attention would abound. I set my plate and cup in the sink and went to a drawer in my desk with an idea.

Moment to moment, it could be both. And in the spring, as the world leapt into color, opportunities to notice, to pay calm attention would abound. I set my plate and cup in the sink and went to a drawer in my desk with an idea.

Moment to moment, it could be both. And in the spring, as the world leapt into color, opportunities to notice, to pay calm attention would abound. I set my plate and cup in the sink and went to a drawer in my desk with an idea.

I wanted a way to pick a color for today without getting caught in an internal debate about which would be best.

I wanted a way to pick a color for today without getting caught in an internal debate about which would be best.

I wanted a way to pick a color for today without getting caught in an internal debate about which would be best.

Sometimes, even when a decision didn't really matter, I could slip into a loop of comparing and rethinking. This walk was meant to be a way to rest that part of myself.

Sometimes, even when a decision didn't really matter, I could slip into a loop of comparing and rethinking. This walk was meant to be a way to rest that part of myself.

Sometimes, even when a decision didn't really matter, I could slip into a loop of comparing and rethinking. This walk was meant to be a way to rest that part of myself.

So I needed to do something like flip a coin or roll a color die. From my drawer, I took out a familiar yellow and green box, the big one with a sharpener on the back, that I'd treated myself to on my last trip to the stationery store.

So I needed to do something like flip a coin or roll a color die. From my drawer, I took out a familiar yellow and green box, the big one with a sharpener on the back, that I'd treated myself to on my last trip to the stationery store.

So I needed to do something like flip a coin or roll a color die. From my drawer, I took out a familiar yellow and green box, the big one with a sharpener on the back, that I'd treated myself to on my last trip to the stationery store.

I closed my eyes and flipped the top open, letting my fingers trail over the waxy tips of the crayons.

I closed my eyes and flipped the top open, letting my fingers trail over the waxy tips of the crayons.

I closed my eyes and flipped the top open, letting my fingers trail over the waxy tips of the crayons.

They'd come organized, of course, but I was in the habit of pulling them out by the handful as I used them and sticking them back in willy-nilly. so I truly had no idea even what family of color I might pull.

They'd come organized, of course, but I was in the habit of pulling them out by the handful as I used them and sticking them back in willy-nilly. so I truly had no idea even what family of color I might pull.

They'd come organized, of course, but I was in the habit of pulling them out by the handful as I used them and sticking them back in willy-nilly. so I truly had no idea even what family of color I might pull.

My finger stopped on one, and I slid it from the pack. I paused to feel where the wax met the paper, how it was peeled back a bit from when I'd sharpened it last. I wondered if it would be a yellow, which I would spot in every daffodil, a yield sign, or a shade of blue, like the sky today.

My finger stopped on one, and I slid it from the pack. I paused to feel where the wax met the paper, how it was peeled back a bit from when I'd sharpened it last. I wondered if it would be a yellow, which I would spot in every daffodil, a yield sign, or a shade of blue, like the sky today.