4 Comments

That Don Henley song has been on repeat in my playlist these last few months. The heart of the matter, indeed. I don’t know about squirrel racing, or hickory tree back-scratching, but I know about locust years, and apologies never offered, and grown ups being kids, and grace that somehow keeps fighting its way in, even though most of us behave as if we are hell-bent against mercy. (We are fools, after all). I am ever grateful for your words, John. I always take away a nugget of something that feels like hope when I read you.

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Perfect for today! Thank you

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I’ve been thinking about how we arent really made to know so much. A whole iPhones worth of knowing. Talk about Trauma. You’re my first substack. Here for it.

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A squirrel visited me here on the deck just now as I sat reading your reflections. Yes, they race up and down trees-ours are maple.

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"Just keep moving" is sound advice these days.

Amening you here from the land of birdsong and cloud-scuttled skies. Thank you, John.

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