Posts in photoblog
Skipping stones

We wander in fresh air where all you can see, all around you, is pure green. We stop time with rosy cheeks and sunbeams. "To invent your own life's meaning is not easy, but it's allowed, and I think you'll be happier for the trouble." —Bill Watterson

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There's crabgrass everywhere and my emptied garbage can rolls down the street in windstorms, clattering into a ditch by the shore. One ditch or another. All my knives are dull, and I should be writing, and every electrician or painter or plumber looks around curiously but doesn't ask.

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photoblogKate Inglis
race week love

This one was a huddle of friendship. Tuxes and chiffon, everybody hugging. Always a circle, symmetry, laughter. People who've counted on each other, and they marked it through the day and night, remembering how it feels to stand together when things fall apart. And in little moments with Proescco, coral suede, dark shades, and deep breaths. 

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the yard

There's fairies at the creek, not rainbow-sparkles-glitters ones but muddy ones, the ones who make space under the deadfall and come out at night to scold the crows. I give this a ting-ting-tingle, like we always do, and I whisper. But not too loud. They're sleeping.

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Boxing Day

I don't know how to say thank you. It's out there and you had so much to say and remember and it meant so much to hear it. We had a great Christmas and I hope you did too, even if yours made you feel tender somehow, like ours did. I've been thinking of everyone else out there in the middle of change, and on the other side of it, and it's helped. That's got a lot to do with you.

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