8:18 - Fellowship of Ailbe
8:18
My grandson is a talker who doesn’t require words.
It’s a new day. Again.
This is a new road beneath our feet.
Cooking is a very practical expression of love.
It feels like we are in a dystopian graphic novel.
Waiting for dawn is hard.
I had no idea of the scale of this bridge.
I have ample time this year to watch my garden grow.
I get why this has become a national craze.
Stick with me, for this gets a little strange.
This morning’s lightning drives home the point.
I feel like I’m in training.
Seeing everyone through my computer screen is getting old.
There is a surprising tree on my street.
I stand in the clearing, stunned by the destruction before me.