When disaster strikes, we reach for the familiar — something sturdy like the trunk of a tree — and hold on.
I wrote this post in 2016 and Sheri McGregor put it in an anthology, a kind of “Chicken Soup for the Soul” for nature freaks. The essay would belong to Sowing Creek Press for a year following publication after which I could do anything I wanted with it, such as post it here on Plastic […]
They say you never miss the water ’till the well runs dry.
I don’t know if I would have survived the existential threats to our health care system and our democracy without someplace to jot down my fears and observations.
Sometimes you just have to reach for that box of shiny new colors.