I was on my daily walk this morning, early to avoid the heat of the day and the roar of lawnmowers and the rumble and cacophony of the trash truck. Per usual, I was adorned with my noise canceling headphones with an audiobook keeping me gentle company. Frances Weller’s words in his esteemed work The Wild Edge of Sorrow were dancing through my ears and mind, holding me tenderly in the earth grief I have felt near constantly these last years.
