As a child, rest was second-nature, maybe even first nature. There were twelve hours of stillness in any given Tuesday. I slept, sure, but even waking watched the frogs blinking milky filmed eye-lids from just above the surface of an Ozark mud puddle. – The Murder of Rest The trails are a reminder of…
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Day 1 – Go Out Into the Wild
Run through your days so the pain doesn’t have a chance to settle. Speed your feet along the wi-fied paths; give into the fascination of distraction. Close the windows to the rain, the wind, the sounds of life. Put away the porch furniture and build the fences around your home, your heart. Close your…