Season of Trust
When dreams are reason enough.
Dear reader,
There is a fire-pit that lives on the red-brick patio behind our kitchen, surrounded by the limbs of ash trees that hang a little too close but we can’t bring ourselves to prune. I see it nearly every day. While I have lived at the ranch for two years now, I have never been the one who starts a fire. In the late fall, I spent hours splitting logs and stacking firewood with my landmates, but since then, I have reaped the benefits of proximity to a fire without breaking any nails. Living in community means the daily ways we warm or feed ourselves are often set in motion by someone else’s hands.
But this weekend, everybody was gone. Birthday parties, campouts, work shifts, and visiting family members meant that I was home, mostly alone, with only one question on my mind: How can I mend a broken heart?
