The Hiddenness of Goodness or the Goodness of Hiddenness
I’ve been watching a pile of wood debris break free from the ice all morning. The water has begun its rush down from the melting mountains and is flowing visibly again, bringing with it all the downed branches from the winter.
Last summer we arrived home from a sudden and sad trip to Florida, and found our neighbor lost three trees in a wind storm that t…
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