Sitting on a bench in my favorite tiny woods, I heard the twigs crack in an uneven rhythm and expected to see a chipmunk hop and scurry past. Instead, I turned into a gaze of intention, steady and unwavering, which made me question my intentions. I was used to being the one who watches to determine when it might be safe to stay, or to go. I barely took a breath, moving with caution to snap a photo of her in the wild. I wondered if this would break her focus. But she was direct, she would not be moved. Not by fear or by doubt or by question. Not until she so desired. I admired such character and her willingness to sit with me in my own moment of doubt. I had questions for her then, but her eyes fluttered as if to say, This isn’t the time. It’s simple trust. Her expression relaxed, and so did I.