Being an author is often times a lonely experience. Writing is most often done solo-in a coffee shop, home studio, or along a stream and under a tree. But every once in an awhile there are these beautiful moments of connection. Like learning that my books share the shelf with a dear friend’s book, in a charming little store called, Field and Forage in a far away place in Sault Ste Marie, Michigan.
In early June I had my younger brother John up to a cabin. He had come a long way to be there with me. Where he traveled from, the sun rose over the ocean every day and set near the mountains. He could see them both from his porch. Here, in northern Wisconsin, was a small lake, not an ocean. There were no mountains-just a tree line that was sprouting furled leaves not long after the snow melted. And there wasn’t a porch with a view. You had to walk, with warm slippers and hot tea, out to the end of a weather-worn pier to catch the sunrise. Which I did, while he was there. I think it was the most beautiful sunrise I experienced in 2023. I’ve learned that life is funny that way; the seemingly unremarkable moments-can become exquisite when you know…they are fleeting. Or when you face the harsh reality, that they are gone. I never made it to his porch across the world, when he was alive, to share the views he wanted to share with me. But I’m realizi...
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