In our first meeting with the miracle doctor in June of 2011, I looked around the waiting room at the gaunt bodies, the ghoulish faces. A gray-stubbled man hobbled to the glass separator to speak to the person at the front desk through the small window, the outline of a cigarette pack a silhouette in the back pocket of his jeans. My father sat beside me…

In my homesteading immersion, we were recently asked to name a few plants, flowers, or trees we’d like to deepen into relationship with.

I’m back on the homestead this spring, a sweet and intentional piece of land between Boulder and Lyons, deepening my connection to nature, community, and my roots in a nine-month immersion.