You stepped off the path and into the hush of winter brush.
A bird stirred the branches. The red berries flickered like coals.
One berry dropped at your feet—warm, bright, and waiting.
The Toyon left you this message.

Tonight, choose not to be the hunter of affection. Instead, be the hearth. Let someone come to your warmth. Do not explain your glow. Do not dim to be polite. Just radiate. Now breathe out, and say aloud: “I offer, but I do not pursue. I warm, but I do not cling.