Author Archives: Katie Napiwocki

A Damselfly Dances in the Face of Ableism

As we drove into the parking lot adjacent to a tried and true trailhead, the hollow moon had climbed into the bluest corner of the sky. Drifting thunderheads were perched atop the distant tree line like pensive giants.  “Beautiful day for a hike,” I said to my companion,…

14 Trips Around the Sun

Have I ever told you that my significant other, Andy, has Becker muscular dystrophy (BMD)? Or that we met as kids at MDA Summer Camp? We did, indeed. Our hometowns sat about a two-hour drive apart. We stayed connected and remained friends throughout our teenage years but never…

Waiting for Fireflies

Dusk was settling in. The sun had clocked out for the day, and as it traveled farther and farther away toward its sleeping quarters, the moonlight grew radiant in the stillness of the evening.  I stared intently at the tall grass of the tree line. I waited patiently for…

The Blue Typhoon

Here in the Midwest, “going for a drive” is an authentic thing. When the tall grass gleams in the golden hour of a lazy Sunday afternoon, countryside rustic roads beckon people to roll their windows down, ignite the engine, and explore. In our current times, the splendor of this activity…

The Sunflower and the Hummingbird

I’ve noticed a trend in social media posts lately: Many of us are missing out on highly anticipated plans. Glorious vacation itineraries have been crumpled. Getaway maps have been folded up and tucked into glove compartments. Retreats sit silent without human reflection. We are all supposed to be somewhere we’re…

In a Mad World, I Turn Toward Nature’s Grace

My cellphone vibrated atop my kneecap. I glanced down at the screen. An alert emerged from a local news app: A case of COVID-19 had been identified in my small city. I was sitting in our living room with a grateful heart, looking out the windows as the downy glow…

A Mountain Is a Mountain, no Matter How Small

I’ve come down with a fever.  As I sit on my outdoor patio, the tall angle of late February sun kisses my cheeks and warms my bones. From one bare tree branch to another, chickadees chatter amid treetop frolic. Surrounding me along all borders of the patio is a…

Peering Through the Fog of Fear

I’ve been on hiatus from writing about my SMA.  Truth be told, I’ve needed to break away from the constant reminder that SMA rules my life. When it wants to, SMA tosses banana peels into any gleaming trajectory I’m traveling. It kicks the sturdy platform from beneath my…