mother tongue

I used to count my steps, measure my heartrate, suspect I was getting sick not because I felt it but because my HR variability dropped.

Aug 2 • rebecca hooper

108

29

17

July 2026

only light

I wish I could say I had some notion I was being followed—that some ancient sense within told me to stop, to turn around, to search the swallow of blue…

Jul 19 • rebecca hooper

172

59

40

we are floating

meeting Nótt and Hulk

Jul 5 • rebecca hooper

116

32

20

June 2026

I, magpie

We wake early and go to an eastern bay.

Jun 28 • rebecca hooper

144

54

22

soft rebellion

and a willow of wing

Jun 7 • rebecca hooper

104

38

18

May 2026

learning to save a whale

In the shallows, there is a whale—but don’t worry, it is only a life-size, inflatable, water-filled (and thus, extremely heavy) pilot whale.

May 31 • rebecca hooper

103

39

24

we are not invisible

if we think we are, we are not paying enough attention

May 10 • rebecca hooper

141

52

36

April 2026

there is tenderness

(and there is terror)

Apr 26 • rebecca hooper

113

59

22

barnacles in space

of moons and barnacles and where we find our wonder

Apr 12 • rebecca hooper

104

71

25

universality

a day of avian encounters

Apr 5 • rebecca hooper

107

62

21

March 2026

peculiar magic

a gale & a funeral & a dog singing to sky

Mar 29 • rebecca hooper

164

65

24

the embodied human

Time ripens in the spring.

Mar 22 • rebecca hooper

122

64

32