# The Hour Unadorned

## Sixty Minutes, One Breath

An hour arrives quietly, like morning light slipping through a window. It holds no promises of grand change, just enough space for what matters now. In a world that rushes from dawn to dusk, this single hour stands as a gentle boundary. It asks us to notice the steam rising from a cup of tea, the rhythm of our own breathing, or the weight of a hand in ours. Not the whole day, not the week ahead—just this hour, plain and present.

## Plain Text of the Present

Markdown mirrors this simplicity. No flashy designs or hidden layers, just words arranged with care. *Hour.md* becomes a canvas for the hour's truth: a few lines capturing a walk in the cold December air, a conversation that lingers, or the quiet ache of missing someone. We write it down not to hoard memories, but to honor the moment as it unfolds. 

- A fleeting joy noted.
- A small regret examined.
- A quiet resolve set.

This act turns fleeting time into something tangible, editable, alive.

## Living the File

By 2025, with screens everywhere, we risk losing the hour to endless scrolls. Yet here, in unformatted reflection, we reclaim it. Each hour.md is a practice: begin, observe, end. Carry that clarity forward, letting the next hour build on the last. It's not about perfection, but presence—a steady rhythm through the years.

*Today, on this 7th of December, let this hour be yours alone.*