The dogwood, with it’s blush-dipped cream blossoms that once guarded the very center of the front yard, has been gone for twenty years now. Why shouldn’t I, with all of my goodness, also be uprooted and asked to leave?
Read MoreA few weeks ago I applied for an opportunity, which resulted in a very nicely-worded email informing me that I had so much potential, I was being placed on a waitlist.
Read MoreWhen I was a child on the shoreline, my sister and I would build sand castles when the tide was low.
Read MoreSummer’s trying, and honestly that’s all I need. Just one small indication that the planet is not against me, that nature is moving forward, that a grass smell-filled, warm and swooshy breeze will still ripple through the green leaf streamers and rustle that organic rhythm.
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