The grace of tight places
I woke this morning from a dream in which I was setting out to bike over a bridge. Before I could get onto the bridge, though, I had to squeeze…
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The grace of tight places
I woke this morning from a dream in which I was setting out to bike over a bridge. Before I could get onto the bridge, though, I had to squeeze…
Each time I pass the rock garden on the corner it’s a little more alive, orange now highlighting the patches of mauve, sunny yellow and fuchsia. The baby pink cherry…
I smile as I pass the new sign below my neighbor’s mail slot: “Please no junk mail. (I love you.)” I smile because there, in gold and turquoise, is a…