by CMCook | Dec 9, 2025 | fat cow studio
December has a way of arriving dressed in twinkle lights and expectations. The calendar fills, the to-do lists grow, and we rush towards the finish line of another year. But somewhere in the swirl of festivities, I feel December whispering something softer. This...
by CMCook | Oct 7, 2025 | fat cow studio
October has always felt like home to me. The air turns tender, the light softens, and everything, sky, field, and heart, seems to breathe a little slower. It was my mom’s favorite month, and maybe that’s why I feel her presence in the quiet moments, when the wind...
by CMCook | Jul 29, 2025 | fat cow studio
Mornings here aren’t rushed, they unfold. The sun peeks over horizon, warming the tops of the cedar trees and sending long golden shadows across the pasture. I step onto the porch with coffee in hand, still barefoot, still waking up myself. It’s quiet, but not silent....
by CMCook | Jul 8, 2025 | fat cow studio
There’s a particular kind of grief that doesn’t come with a funeral. No flowers. No casseroles. Just quiet absence. It’s the loss of someone who’s still out there, living, breathing, carrying on, but not in your life anymore. Maybe it was a slow fade. Maybe it was a...
by CMCook | May 23, 2025 | fat cow studio
There’s a quiet kind of healing that happens when you stand beside a horse. It’s not loud or dramatic. It doesn’t come with fanfare or applause. It comes in stillness—in the soft exhale of a warm breath, the calm gaze of a deep brown eye, the rhythm of hooves meeting...
