My sneakers kicked a path through the walnuts and conkers. My feet cut through brittle leaves and marrow-less sticks, stirring up dry, airy echoes, which snapped or crumbled into the broken black earth.
Before dusk, my family went for a slow walk through the woods. From time to time, I snuck in a little deeper. I went ahead or off to the side.
(Photos by Angie Thieszen)
A young woman went underwater today. For the last two years, her twinkling eyes have showered my two boys with kindness at church. She never let an opportunity pass to say hello and talk with them.
When Henry and James were younger, she held their little hands and walked them, back and forth, from the nursery door to the front door. She made them feel like the most important people in the church.
Her life went underwater this morning. But steadied by the strong arms of her father, she came up with a new life.