The fields are heavy with golden light, imbuing nostalgia into every blade of prairie grass. I am searching the tree line for the outline of hawks, and catching my breath every time a white-breasted kestrel takes flight. I’ve forgotten how golden this golden hour can be. I’ve forgotten how light I can feel seeing theContinue reading “When the universe is stilled”
Here’s a Lent practice that might be in direct opposition to your ad algorithms: Look in the mirror each day.Greet the ashes. Whether or not you will have them smeared across your face to mark the start of Lent, the signs the ashes point to are already there: The fine lines the latest creams claimContinue reading “Greet the ashes”
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