As we embark on our next phase in the St. Croix River Valley, we are grateful for all of you who have been our travel companions and have offered the support we have felt this past year.
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Like the wild plum tree, I feel the pull of both the light and darkness of the fall equinox. My patience wears thin, like the bark on that tree. My words can be sharp, like those thorns. I’m scarred and weathered. Sour and sweet.
I think it fair to say that we humans have a special gift for dreaming about what’s over the edge of our known world. I explore new things, creatively adapt to different circumstances, let new discoveries rise, and continue from there by telling stories about what I found.
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I have had the joy and privilege to experience silence so deep I could hear snowflakes falling, which can be pretty loud if they are the only things making noise.
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What could be better than eating a cantaloupe in August picked first thing in the morning from the Hoffman Farm and consumed less than 24 hours after being plucked from the vine.
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When the world’s problems feel too big to handle, I put on a pair of muddy old boots and hang out with 120,000 stinging insects.
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For as long as I can remember I’ve been intrigued by rocks. As a little girl I thought of them as magic and later in my life, Chuck and I have used them as color pallets for the paintings we do.
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Our time as Holden Village Executive Director’s was completed last August. What an incredible experience and privilege it was to live in the remote wilderness of the Cascade Mountains.
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