Tuesday, September 25, 2018

We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer’s wreckage. We will welcome summer’s ghost.

Henry Rollins

I can remember some years when September 25th was cold. I recall others when it felt like summer was lingering. I remember best, this day thirty-eight years ago when my son was born. Happy Birthday, Michael!

This year, after an early and cold start to the month, September 25 is shaping up to be the start of a run of beautiful early autumn days. Gerry’s heading out to climb mountains and I’ve got some appointments in town.

I’ve turned the heat off in the house (yes, early September was so cold that I succumbed to switching it on) and might even open some doors and windows today. Fall’s finest, he

Word wrangler. Photo taker. I'm here early most mornings with one of my photos and a few words about life and those thin places where faith intersects. Coming Summer 2020: The Presence of Absence: A Story About Busyness, Brokenness, and Being Beloved.
  1. Handsome dude . . . I think Michael has your expression, Linda!

    1. Yes, it’s a great joy to see those shadows of my features in my kiddos. They were the first DNA related humans I ever set eyes on!

  2. We always remember these highlights of our lives! It seems like no time since my own two children were born! Happy Fall to you, Linda…

    1. Happy Fall to you too, Diane. 🙂

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