The colors are waning now. The sun is riding low through the sky and the plants are changing into clothes of beige and amber.
I have been reflecting on how we experience this turning of the wheel, this changing of the seasons over and over...
FLAME
I didn’t grow up with fire. There were no forest fires where I lived. There was no ritual to greet fire as an ancestor, the way it breathes with generous lungs, the way it warms our bones with a primordial spark. I don’t...
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