on connections that don’t need logical explanation.

Apparently, I was born to have nature follow me everywhere, even when I live in an apartment. City life, check. Tiny black spiders hopping around like they own the place, orbweavers spinning their chaotic art just where I walk, jumping spiders with more personality than most people I know. Toads chilling at my apartment entrance like they’re waiting for the elevator. Birds casually getting friendly wherever I am, like we have an unspoken brunch date scheduled.

Fast forward to the countryside: finally, no makeup, chill vibes, stargazing, moon-watching under the dark, magical sky away from city lights. And yet… my little city friends are still here. Nature doesn’t care about ZIP codes. Heart-connections don’t dissolve just because your surroundings do.

Enter my parent’s doggo: gentle, healing from her traumas here with the humans that are nice to her, ridiculously sweet, and somehow my spirit twin in fur form. First sight? Instant deep eye contact that doesn’t make sense to the mind but does to the soul. Miles apart? Doesn’t matter. Same look when I return, same instant connection; like a Wi-Fi signal that never drops.

Maybe it’s woo-woo. Maybe it’s magical. Maybe it’s both. But soul connections? They don’t need species boundaries, or city/countryside borders, or explanations. Once bonded, always bonded.

So here I am, surrounded by spiders, birds, toads, and a very wise dog – plus the other two – thriving in my urban jungle and countryside alike, and somehow, it all just feels connected.