Today I’m wondering if the land we live on reaches up to hold on to us.  Perhaps we are connected and entangled like the fungi strands beneath our feet.

Maybe the land enjoys and participates in our footsteps, laughter, joys, fears, and worries.  

We’ve gone through all the hoops, and there were many,  and it looks like we’ll be traveling tomorrow and yet I feel an attachment to this land, our home for 43 years.

What is this hold?  I reflect on separation, on birth, organs, bone, and skin.

I consider the separation of an orange into parts, the sounds and squish, the squirt of juice, and I’m grateful for this gathering of family as I step away knowing wherever I go, there I am, so tender footsteps are the way to meet and travel each day.

Traveling to this –

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