I. The Wanderer's Song

Find me, find me where the tall grass grows
In the sunlight-catching meadow
With the evening growing cold
Come winding down the path
Past the weeping willow trees
Leave your burden in the grass
Let the stillness set you free

Find me, find me in the morning dew
Where the silence is surrounding
And the sun rises anew
Here we will find our safety
From the shadows in the night
Which are cast long and far and
The light ever pursues

Find me, find me before we've grown old
So we may do so together
And brave the darkness and the cold
Our love will be fire
In the blackest nights and longest days
What is love that does not kindle
Other fires and light the way


Monday: Left the comforts of civilization for a journey to test the limits and challenge my own abilities. This involved a rattlesnake encounter, waterfalls, a backpack, and a trusty walking stick. I utilized many valuable skills, including water purification, fire-starting, and navigation.
Tuesday: Sleeping in a tent may be safe, but you don't get to see the stars.
Wednesday: The view. The water. The fresh mountain air. Oh, and the view.
Thursday: I led a group down the mountain to safety and ended the day with a steak dinner.


      Sometimes I forget how much writing is like other disciplines of life: if you practice, you get better, and if you don't, you get rusty. I'm on the rusty side because it's been a while. Though I haven't picked up the pen recently, I have done a lot of summer reading on a variety of subjects, from cancer to modern art, and a variety of authors, like Steinbeck and Suzanne Collins. I eat books for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The more I read, the more I learn (for the most part).  I've also had many adventures, like surfing, whitewater rafting, and bouldering. This afternoon, I went to the mill with a good friend and we spent a few hours exploring the empty rooms and experimenting with lighting and photography. I started falling in love with shadows. The way they embrace an object or figure, draping it in darkness, making the little bit of light more entrancing. And let me tell you, the light at the mill at 5 in the evening is beautiful. 

So good that I'm going to keep going and keep chasing it and discovering how it falls gently and uncovers the shadows. Because nothing, nothing can make the darkness flee but the light. The mill would just be an enormous, empty cave if it weren't for the light streaming through the windows and telling the story of all time. 

This week I went to a wedding. It was for a long-time family friend, and it was lovely. I was in town for the days preceding the event, and a team of girls helped with food, decorations, and all the fun things involved with wedding preparations. My favorite part was helping with the flower arrangements. I seem to be some sort of a natural. Anyway, it was a really joyful week, seeing the love the couple had for each other and their families' joy and how amazing it is when God brings two people together. True, deep, Christlike love is breathtaking.