A Spark in the Tired Hours

I met a woman from Venezuela last night—brilliant, grounded, a senior machine learning engineer like me. We talked code at first, but then she painted her homeland with words: wild parrots bursting in color through the trees, skies alive with noise and motion. For a moment, I wasn’t tired anymore. I was there.

I’ve been worn down lately, standing still while everything shifts around me. But her voice carried something I’d forgotten—vitality, wonder, the kind of pride that comes from roots torn up and replanted far away. She didn’t speak with sadness about leaving, just clarity, and that impressed me most.

Vancouver feels quieter now, emptier somehow, as people pack up and go. It’s bittersweet to love a place that’s slowly letting go of itself. Still, meeting her reminded me that beauty and resilience move with us. Even in exhaustion, connection can spark something bright.