A tent, a trail, and a book

Back from a week of hiking, camping, and reading in southern Utah. (Specifically, at Arches National Park, Natural Bridges National Monument, and the banks of the upper Colorado River.)

There is something in me that needs wild places–places where I can just be–to remember who I am.

Pictures later, maybe. For now, I’m ready to return to the final note-addressing/read-aloud pass through the raven book, now with the working title Nevermore.

The thing–a thing–about stepping away is, the work feels lighter and more joyful when we return to it, after the time away.

Though with all the ravens that accompanied our travels, perhaps I was never fully away. Ravens love cliff country, and they never seem as joyful to me as they do when they’re flying them.

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