It is that kind of day. Two months ago, at a local farm I made this wreath from moist root, dead branch and thorn tails. I left it to dry, wrapt in gauze tissue, then forgot all about it. Today my husband NJ put it on the mantel. It was still fragrant with raw bark, and tree tang. And some softened thorn sting.
Good Friday is that kind of day. Life at Crossbeams. In the raw. Decibels of disbelief. The chaos of Belief! I gawk at it all hang jaw.
Thank You Yeshuva.
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