Wednesday, April 10, 2024

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, . . ." ~Lord Byron













 “She grew not on the land so much as out of it, like cottonwoods and bear grass. Each fall a part of her collapsed and withered alongside the wildflowers and grapevines she loved and used for healing. Each spring some new part of her erupted just as the mallows and poppies did, spreading her toes like roots in the truth and sustenance of ground, while branching out to the rest of the living world and stretching upwards towards the light.”

― Jesse Wolf Hardin

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