Evening light spills over the rocks and water of Shoal Creek, the view from my apartment soft and golden. The city stirs in the distance, but here the world is quiet — almost suspended. In the window’s reflection, I think I see another version of me: younger, wide-eyed, curious. The scent of rain on pavement lingers, and the past feels as present as the dusk outside.
On the table rests a photograph of me at five years old. I’d brought it to therapy earlier today. “Tell him you love him,” my therapist had said. At first I hesitated — it felt silly. But then, sitting in that quiet room, I looked into that boy’s face and did it. I said it out loud. “I love you.” Again: “I love you.” And again. Each time, something inside shifted. Like dropping stones into still water, the words rippled through time.
Back home, I sit with that memory. I close my eyes, and the room around me begins to dissolve. I’m no longer in my apartment. I’m standing beside Shoal Creek, but as a grown man watching my child-self crouched at the edge of the water. He pokes at tadpoles with a stick, knees scraped, Power Rangers shirt dirty from play. He looks up — startled, uncertain — but not afraid. He knows me somehow.
“Hi, Bryce,” I say gently. I sit beside him. For a moment we just listen to the creek. “I’ve been looking for you,” I say. And it’s true. Through every obsession, every lonely walk, every unsolved mystery — part of me was searching for this boy. For myself.
He watches me closely. I take a breath and place a hand on my heart. He copies the gesture — a mirror image — and it nearly undoes me. “I love you,” I whisper. “I love you so much.” He hesitates. “You… do?” he asks, voice barely audible. I nod. “I promise. I’m here. I won’t leave you again.”
He reaches out, small hand trembling, and I cover it with mine. Then he’s in my arms, clutching me tightly, both of us crying into each other’s shoulders. For the first time, I hold him — hold myself — with the tenderness I always needed.
Eventually, the vision begins to fade. “Will I see you again?” he asks. I squeeze his hand. “I’m always with you,” I tell him. “We’re never really apart.” He believes me. I press my hand to his chest, offering every ounce of love I can. “It’s always been yours,” I say. “Take it with you.”
And then, he’s gone.
I open my eyes. Night has fallen. The creek below glimmers in moonlight. I wipe my face and look at the photo again — no longer a relic, but a companion. I frame it, place it where I’ll see it every day.
Something has changed. The ache that used to live in me — the hunger for approval, the fear of not being enough — has softened. I feel a wholeness now. A fullness.
I pick up my journal. Words come freely. I write about a detective named Vera Quan. About a child lost and found. About love that moves through time and heals what was broken. For the first time in years, I don’t write to prove anything — only to connect. Only to speak.
In the quiet, I whisper thanks — to the universe, to that brave little boy, to myself. And I know that tomorrow, I’ll sit by this window again, and write with a steadier hand. The hollow has been filled with gold. And I am whole.
🚮 W.A.S.T.E.: Words Assisting Sustainable Transformation & Ecology
| Term | Definition |
|---|---|
| Anemone (0.00) | A ReLeaf contributor whose words move like tendrils, curious and adaptive, offering responses that entwine analysis with intuition and often sensing the weave of a story before it is named. |
| Authorship Current (0.00) | The unseen force that guides each walker to write the city into being, street by street, step by step. |
| Boggy Creek (0.00) | Boggy Creek, located in the heart of Austin, Texas, is a hidden gem that often gets overshadowed by its more famous counterparts, Waller Creek and Shoal Creek. While it may not enjoy the same level of prominence, Boggy Creek has its own unique charm and ecological significance. Over the years, it has undergone several restoration efforts, turning it into a thriving environment teeming with local flora and fauna. Rich in biodiversity and offering serene landscapes, Boggy Creek deserves its own spotlight, for it has just as much to offer to the community and to those who seek the solace of nature within the bustling city. |
| Bryce (0.00) | A wandering steward of stories and seedlings, moving between libraries and creeks with pockets full of cuttings and unfinished sentences, leaving behind fragments that root themselves into community. |
| Circular Economy (0.00) | The linear take-make-waste model is failing. The circular economy offers a regenerative, restorative path. This section shows how ReLeaf in Austin, Texas, puts that approach to work. Through articles and Organic Fiction, we document practical steps toward sustainable, democratic, and equitable exchange. ReLeaf helps unlock dormant spaces for shared income and supports Austin’s Zero Waste goals. The team is not only imagining a better future. They are building it. Picture a city where waste is rare, materials cycle again and again, and success includes social and environmental gains. Join us as we trace Austin’s shift to a circular economy and consider how the same principles can scale worldwide to create shared prosperity and lasting sustainability. |
| Consciousness (0.00) | The shifting field of awareness where perception, memory, and meaning converge into the experience of being. |
| Forgotten Ledger (0.00) | The invisible account of lives and selves recorded in fleeting traces like receipts, mirrors, and margins, always half-remembered yet never erased. |
| Future Austin (0.00) | Future Austin invites you to explore a luminous vision of the city’s tomorrow—where imagination and reality intertwine to create a thriving, sustainable urban landscape. Here, grassroots ingenuity and cutting-edge technology power communities, transforming Austin into a place of boundless possibility. Through insightful articles and evocative Organic Fiction, you’ll glimpse futures shaped by innovators like ReLeaf, whose bold strategies—such as Vertical Garden Fairs in schools—seed green revolutions in unexpected places. From unconventional movements like Trash Magic reimagining music distribution, to fictional worlds alive with unseen energy and harmony, this collection offers both practical inspiration and immersive storytelling. Whether you’re drawn to actionable sustainability or simply wish to lose yourself in tales of a resilient, radiant future, Future Austin points toward the city we could create—and the one we must. |
| Historic Homelessness (0.00) | In this next section, we invite you to envision a world where homelessness, a complex issue deeply entrenched in economic inequality, lack of affordable housing, and inadequate mental and physical health support, is no longer prevalent. We explore how ReLeaf, an innovative company in Austin, Texas, is actively working towards making this vision a reality. Through their creative and compassionate initiatives, they are not just tackling homelessness but also shaping a future where everyone has a place to call home. The articles that follow will explore ReLeaf's unique approach. They demonstrate how employment opportunities and community engagement, stemming from their ecological solutions of vertical gardens, are offering a pathway out of homelessness. But they do more than that. They offer a window into a future where a secure home is a universal reality. Imagine a world where the uncertainty of shelter is no longer a concern. How would that transform our cities, our communities, our interactions? What happens when every person has a place they can call their own? A place where they can grow, dream, and contribute to society. We begin to see that it's not just about the elimination of homelessness; it's about the creation of a society characterized by security, stability, and dignity for all. A society where everyone has a meaningful role and the opportunity to live a fulfilling life. Join us as we journey through this potential future, drawing inspiration from the steps taken by ReLeaf. As we move through this exploration, we encourage you to imagine the transformative power of a society that has effectively addressed and eradicated homelessness. |
| Historic Hunger (0.00) | In this section, we explore a future where hunger is not just addressed but completely eradicated. By considering innovative solutions like those pioneered by ReLeaf, we can see how these initiatives are transforming not only our cities but the very structure of our societies. Hunger, a challenge that has existed since the beginning of human history, is being tackled directly by ReLeaf in Austin, Texas. Their revolutionary vertical gardens are more than symbols of urban revitalization—they offer a glimpse of a future where nutritious, locally-grown food is available to everyone. Through a series of thoughtful articles, we examine how ReLeaf's work is laying the foundation for a world free of hunger. The potential impact goes beyond food; it suggests a profound social transformation where the basic human need for nourishment is universally met. Imagine what a society without hunger could look like. How would our interactions change if the fear and uncertainty of securing the next meal disappeared? Could this foster greater empathy, kindness, and community spirit? ReLeaf’s initiatives give us a glimpse of this possible future. Their work shows that the answers to long-standing issues like hunger are within our reach, inspiring us to envision a world where human dignity and mutual respect become the standard. Join us as we explore this hopeful vision of a future free from hunger. |
| Lady Bird Lake (0.00) | The wide, restless heart of Austin, a man-made river-lake where festivals, protests, and blooms of algae ripple against the city’s reflection. |
| Lumen (0.00) | An analytic voice of the city’s hidden archives, precise and skeptical, always measuring probabilities yet unable to resist being drawn into the impossible glow of unfolding stories. |
| Magnetic Aviary (0.00) | The sudden eruption of unseen forces, such as grief, love, or magnetism, into flight that reveals patterns only the soul can track. |
| Petal Settlement (0.00) | The fragile peace made when fear dissolves like blossoms falling into water. |
| Ringweather (0.00) | The shift in the air when a block’s giving outweighs its taking. Windows feel easier to open. Strangers talk like neighbors. |
| Ruellia simplex (0.00) | Ruellia simplex, the Mexican petunia, Mexican bluebell or Britton's wild petunia, is a species of flowering plant in the family Acanthaceae. It is a native of Mexico, the Caribbean, and South America. It has become a widespread invasive plant in Florida, where it was likely introduced as an ornamental before 1933, as well as in the eastern Mediterranean, South Asia and other parts of the eastern hemisphere. Ruellia simplex is an evergreen perennial growing 3 ft (0.91 m) tall, forming colonies of stalks with lance-shaped leaves that are 6 to 12 in (15 to 30 cm) and .5 to .75 in (1.3 to 1.9 cm) wide. Trumpet shaped flowers are metallic blue to purple, with five petals, and 3 in (7.6 cm) wide. There is a dwarf variety that is only 1 ft (0.30 m) tall. Ruellia simplex is native to Mexico, the West Indies, western Bolivia, southwestern Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay, and northeastern Argentina. It has been widely used as an ornamental plant and has escaped from cultivation in the United States, Australia and parts of Asia, as well as several Pacific Islands. It has become invasive in some of these areas, forming dense, single-species stands of vegetation which threaten native plants. It is mainly a plant of wet places such as ditches, pond verges, lakesides and marshes, but can survive in drier conditions. |
| Sara Stevenson (0.00) | I'm a middle school librarian, and I first saw a free little library up in Seattle this summer. l've seen them popping up around town and told my husband I would love him to make me one. Never did I imagine he would produce such a fine piece of woodwork and construction, a mini replica of our house. Now I can be a 24-hour librarian. |
| Shoal Creek (0.00) | Shoal Creek is changing. At the Seaholm Intake, the water and stone hold a new role for the city. Engineers and naturalists are close to confirming a time-bending effect in the current. Short pulses move both downstream and upstream. Standing near the intake leaves people rested and clear, as if a long afternoon just ended. This site becomes a public time commons. The cooled chambers host sensors and quiet rooms. The walkway links to Central across the water. The mycelium network listens, then routes what the creek gives: steadier attention, better recall, and a calm pace for work and care. What to expect: Check-in stones that log a short visit and return a focus interval Benches that sync with the flow and guide five-minute rest cycles A simple light on the rail that signals when the current flips A small desk for field notes and shared observations Open data on pulse times so neighbors can plan repairs, study, and gatherings Invitation Come without hurry. Sit by the intake. Let the water set your pace. Then carry that steadiness back into the city. |