To Hold Rather Than Wait

by Nicolette L. Cagle, October 6, 2026

We often wait. We wait for the crispness of autumn and the joy of spice-hued leaves. We wait for breaks in a day of meetings or pauses between weeks of work. We wait for rain during drought and snow during ever-warmer winters. We wait for our community of humans to embrace each other and the intrinsic value of the more-than-human world. We wait for love, in infinite supply, to become the fuel that runs the world.

We often wait when we should hold with wonder and care. We should hold the warmth of the sun and the humid air during the peak of summer. We should hold each interaction, each workday meeting, each moment in which we devote ourselves to work that we love. We should hold the dry periods that allow the wild quinine and anise-scented goldenrod to model resilience. Yes, we should hold the fallibility of humankind that has contributed to snowless winters. And we should hold a humanity that has yet to learn to hold each other and the natural world. And we should hold the tenderness and fear that impede the love that could fuel the world.

And in this moment, I will try to hold it all, the joys and sorrows. I will hold the apricity of the sun on my face. I will hold the flecks of light sparkling from the running water. I will hold the murmuring leaves as the wind blows through and the coarse call of the blue jay. I will hold the sounds of Jake brakes in the distance. I will hold the patterns left by spray paint on the rocks at the river. I will attempt to hold it all with wonder and care.