23. September 2022
Just a few days after mid-September each year, the dawn light breaks directly east across our drive, Tara. That day was this Wednesday last. Sol blazed orange as I looked down the drive, and turning east, as I have done in years past, that same light is mirrored in the glass of Saint Theresa of the Child Jesus Catholic Church, named after the “little flower of God,” sigil Saint of my dear patroness, Brooke. I have often considered this clean east-west alignment a bit of a hinge-moment, a...