Not every access need is visible.
Not every support moment makes noise.
But design that accounts for the invisible can transform how someone feels, not just how they function.

• A rest stop placed before the point of exhaustion
• A pathway wide enough for two friends to roll or walk side by side
• A quiet space at a viewpoint for sensory recovery
• A trail map written in language that doesn’t assume “normal”

This is access that anticipates rather than responds.
That acts before the ask.
That builds ease without demanding disclosure.

Have you ever experienced a design choice that felt like it was made just for you, even if no one else noticed?

Let’s gather the invisible wins.
Because when design considers what’s unseen, it reflects who is usually overlooked.