This morning, we were driving back to Robertson to clear out the shop. Just after we left home, we caught sight of Jamison Valley — and the entire valley was filled with cloud. Completely covered. Only the mountain peaks were visible, rising out of the white like islands. We were literally above the clouds. It was majestic. Quiet. Otherworldly. My daughter didn’t want to get out of the car to take it in. And I found myself saying gently, life is uncertain. We don’t know where or what we’ll be tomorrow. We don’t know how long a chapter lasts. We don’t know which moments will matter most in hindsight. But we do know this: We have now. The small pauses. The views we could rush past. The people sitting beside us in the car. Spiritual practice isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s simply choosing to notice. To step out. To breathe. To look. The valley was hidden — but the peaks were clear. And maybe that’s the teaching. Even when life feels clouded, there are still steady points rising through it. Today, I’m grateful for the clouds. And for the reminder to savour what is right in front of me. ☕ Reflection What small moment today could you slow down enough to truly see?