When we go up to Tennessee for a combined driving lesson, we leave at o-dark-hundred, in order to get done before the heat.
Last Saturday, I was walking up to the barn in the dark, carrying the serving buckets. It was solidly nighttime. Nothing pre-dawn about it. The air was a comfy level of warm. The minimal rural traffic was quiet. All was stillness.
That’s it. No profound thoughts. Simply a moment to recall when the frustration overwhelms me.
Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott
Virtual Brush Box 