For the shortest, darkest day of the year I share with you beautiful writing from a friend who also moved West from the South.
“I believe they dream of beauty: of the yellow lilies of Easter, and the wild violets and rank mushrooms and pink flesh of trout; of berries, of stones, of antlers, feathers, moss, fire. And fire’s warmth.”
It was a gift to have this be my first read of the day. Hope it is for you as well.