There is a story unearthing layers as I watch the landscape bloom.
What is normally desert is lush and green. Greener than I ever remember. It almost feels like another land. The rain has poured and poured. It’s too much rain for many parts of our state, so desperately thirsty it gets drowned instead of drenched. And yet here, there are flowers blooming. Among rocks, along paths. The rocky ground, the green desert, now blooming. There is something in this landscape that is speaking to my soul, and I’m slowly putting words to it. 🌵
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