April 2026 digest

I feel like we’re in the middle of a transition over here. My youngest turned four months a few days ago, and it suddenly feels like we’ve crossed out of the newborn fog into the next stage. And it’s making me feel a bit untethered. Figuring out how to return to work while mothering two kids, all while still feeling out of sync with my own body, has been a lot. (If you want to jump ahead, I talk about this in my musing this month.)

But underneath this feeling of being untethered, there’s this quiet sense of hope. Like I’m standing right on the edge of some new version of myself I haven’t fully figured out yet. And it gives me hope—which as you’ll see through all the links below—seems to have been my theme for the month.

🌬️ Salt Lake City emissions are going down: As a local who’s maybe a little too aware of our air quality, this gives me hope that it can get better. There’s still a long way to go, but it’s proof that policy changes can make a difference.

🎵 This music may contain hope: Raye’s new album is worth the long listen. Is it jazz? Is it a musical? Is it pop? Who cares. I love an album that tells a story from start to finish. And this album delivers that and so much more. (I have a guess that the Hans Zimmer track will be my most listened to song this year.)

🧠 To keep climate science alive, researchers are speaking in code: I was expecting to feel discouraged after this read, but it left me with a quiet kind of hope. Scientists aren’t stepping back. They’re adapting and reshaping how they communicate to keep the work moving forward. So here’s a small thank you, sent out into the ether, for the scientists who keep showing up despite it all.

In this essay, I write about taking my three-month-old son on his first hike and how that walk brought me back to the wildfire that burned the hillside behind our home two summers ago.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger 🎵

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Apr 6

I took my three-month-old son on his first hike the other day. It’s a trail I know well, but I hadn’t been on it in a while. For the past year, I’ve been too pregnant or too newly postpartum to imagine climbing anything.

It’s a piece about motherhood, postpartum, hope, climate change, and the kind of resilience that doesn’t mean returning to who you were before, but growing into someone new.