Soil To Soul

Shifting seasons carry me West. Down river. Away from the summer heat and dry land of my birth. Revisiting a place I called home. A place that’s held so much love and growth and pain. Picking the ripe berries, a metaphor, and also a literal practice. Canning jam to savor this season long into the cold months. Grateful for those who tended this land for thousands of years, in whose gardens I walk in reverence.