Long rays of sunlight still stretch across the field, a chorus of tree frogs lingering with the dusk. Life is flush with growth, the blushing bride of the Solstice scantily clad and ripe. If this were all of life, we would age with zest, a slow, golden rise to the sky. Yet winter hovers, the opposing force of a dusk that lingers long into morning. If I could catch you up in this time of light, we might stay young and glistening forever.
June 28, 2024
I mostly run on gravel roads, the kind that promise solitude and dust. My pace has slowed, as has most of life, become more of a quiet watching than a frenzied doing. I am less Read more…