We took a family vacation to the Grand Canyon during the summer of 2008. It was June, and I was sixteen. We boarded a red eye flight to Flagstaff, Arizona, suitcases bursting with t-shirts and sunscreen. The plane was silent aside from my father’s calm voice, reassuring me at take-off. He spoke easily and composedly. He said that we would make it there safe. He was right. … More Remembering the Grand Canyon (God of Wonder)
I watched a leaf blow, suspended midair by celestial threads. Caught in a careless and indiscernible breeze, she danced upon invisible floors and twirled around transparent fingers, a solo act. She was breathtaking and wonderful. So unexpected, so abrupt. So delicate and delightful.
I remember it well – the wild way the fog held close to the peaks of those blue mountains, trapped in clefts and crevices like slow, low-hanging clouds. The white vapor hung precariously, as though it wanted to rise but had hit a glass ceiling, an impenetrable wall. So, it settled instead. The sky was the lightest, most fragile shade of cotton … More Beautiful Storm
It’s late January. The month of my birth, and the first month of the year, it is also the month when my aging body grows tired of the cold. When my bones ache from the freeze. January, for me, is when the charm of winter starts to fade just as quickly as the pure white snow can turn itself muddy and gray. Christmas has come. Jesus and the New Year have come, … More Keeping a Warm Soul (Waiting for May)