Zucchini bread is baking in the oven (only because it rained this morning and it's not 90 degrees inside the house) and chai is steaming out of a china cup. And I'm writing. Perhaps the quintessential afternoon for any quiet homebody. But outside, the world feels so violent and hostile. So virulent, capricious, volatile. More…
When Glory has Fled
We march into the battle of life, our banners flying, heads held up high. Inevitably, a company of loyal paraders bring up the rear, enthusiastically hurrahing their support. We tramp through beautiful flat plains, butterflies flitting by and songbirds chirping their sweet approval. The road is well worn, trampled by so many feet who have…
penelope alves 