THE SPACES BETWEEN

There are moments in motion when time feels briefly suspended.

Mid-ride. Mid-run. Mid-breath. The horizon opens and gently asks for a second look. Movement continues, just slowed enough to truly see.

It begins in the light, then in the air, then in the colour of the land as the trails and the landscape shift almost without noticing. The places passed still hold the last warmth, pale and soft now, almost yellow after a long, bright summer. Most days, the difference goes unnoticed. Today, it lingers.

Direction / Photography / Styling — @graemegaughan
Talent — @perrylouis & @zack.stwrt
Words — @kadens.journal

At the edge of late fall, a quiet awareness of how temporary everything is begins to surface. It isn’t about distance, effort, or pace. It’s about time. Time spent with friends, with the landscape, with oneself. These fleeting presences between seasons only become visible through repetition. Through the time put in. Being here is part of what shapes who we are.

There’s a sense that if too much time passes, it will already be different. That it will move on without asking. It won’t wait. There’s no holding onto it, only being in it while it’s here.

Some things are felt in between, before they’re seen.