Forty-five minutes before the sun comes up, the river does something almost no one sees. I know, because I’m usually alone out there when it happens.
Coleman Bridge
Room for the Light
The furniture is out. The windows aren't blocked anymore. I walked through my own house this weekend startled by how much sun comes into it.
Enough, Without the Fireworks
Three years ago I wrote that I was enough without the fireworks, and hoped it was true. This year, by the river, I found I could hold both the rare light and the daily one.
New Every Morning: 30 Days of Chasing the Light
Thirty mornings at one pier on the York River, and the sky never repeated once. What thirty sunrises taught me about mercy that's new every morning.
