I still have some summer to spend, but I'm looking back at what a dreamy time it's been.
Cathedrals Of Our Own
Grief
We're going to visit one of his favorite places tonight, the sequoia grove Dudley and I found in one of our first exploring adventures here, and miss the jangle of his tags and the swish of his feathered tail up the switchback trail.
Anew Hope
I sit for a moment in the sun, breathing its warmth into the corners of my lungs. It was a good, hard three hours, and I'm ecstatic, filthy and exhausted. It's planting season, and the next six months hold mysteries I haven't even contemplated. But what will come will be managed.
Meg Currell 