Post-camping
This morning is about post-camping messiness. My house smells like wood smoke, there are raincoats hanging in the shower and a mountain of laundry stared […]
This morning is about post-camping messiness. My house smells like wood smoke, there are raincoats hanging in the shower and a mountain of laundry stared […]
These are lines from Berry’s Sabbath 1999 poems, but let them ring in Lent this year. Again we resume the long lesson of small things. The simple lesson that takes us years of circling to finally work into the fabric of our hearts. Maybe it takes all the years. Maybe that’s the point.