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The Gardener
Writing is like planting a garden and waiting for the emergence of something green. The one who plants is bent over the dirt. She takes off her gloves as they are stifling hot and place too much between her and the earth — rich, damp, and deep. She brushes a mosquito from her arm, leaving…
Let Sleeping Horses Lie
OK. I got a little carried away with my photos today. This was supposed to be a one photo a day thing… But it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve made it out to the barn and the horses were being so darn photogenic. The reason I haven’t been out to see Luke for awhile…
Vision and Verb
Reflecting (once again) on where I’m going as I run and buck through life. I’ve even come up with a manifesto — “Feed the passion. Do the work. Celebrate the journey.” You can read more about it and see a photo of my Dad’s horse out in the desert at Vision and Verb – “Running and…
Days in the Life
Saturday, walking the woods and fields behind the library. Reaching the corn field, it looks like a tractor recently came through and plowed under the standing stalks. Rock-sized clods of black dirt lie in a wake of tire marks, segregating the field like waves on an ocean. A few geese stand, looking perplexed at the…
They Say It’s Your Birthday
They say it’s your birthday. [da dun, da dun] We’re gonna have a good time. [da dun, da dun] Fifty-seven years old is kind of a boring birthday – no kind of milestone attached to it. It’s not even a catchy number like fifty-five. I have no big plans. Nothing up my sleeve. No inspiring…
The Woman Who Was and Will Be
On Tuesday, I received in the mail some photos that my ex sent me. They must have gotten mixed with his things when he left me over three years ago. There were photos of the first meeting with my birth sister, my first meeting with my birth brother (also given up for adoption), my birth…
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Very cool photo and title .