the measure of your deeds.

She had never wished she was a bareback rider, but upon hearing about it she immediately understood the appeal and what was at stake.

Baby baby baby, what is happening here?

The seasons have gone out of joint, lovely shrubs flowering white in the late October heat wave and it pains me to see that they will be stung by the cold and the storm. How do I tell them? Butterflies still making their rounds on the late mallows, and gasping in surprise at the rosehips. If she did not have the opportunity to live with the plants and the animals every day, she would not notice either and just think that climate change surely was happening somewhere else. If we do not reconnect to the earth, my prognosis is rather pessimistic. I want to love these challenging times none the less and my peers as well as those non-human beings that I have the privilege and the pleasure of knowing.

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