The sun went red because something far away was burning. The glory I was chasing was refracted grief. And I finally understood why I feel so right beneath it.
photography
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.
The Same Shorelines
A year ago, my husband renewed our vows at sunrise. This week, separating belongings, I found the card he'd given me that day. So much can change in a year.
Two-Hour Tuesdays
Two-Hour Tuesdays is here. The blog that became a book, and the practice that's teaching me how to write the next one — a chapter at a time, at the water.
Going Through the Motions
I don't feel alive, but I was grateful for breath in my lungs. For quiet. For stillness. I keep showing up. Sunrise. Gym. School. Sea glass. Repeat. The daffodils came back, so will I.
Writer's Growth 