. . .It means so much to us that

             you are here, they said.

We want to write

             an apology letter, they said.

Tell us what to say.

Dakota Homecoming, By GWEN NELL WESTERMAN

Another day of sun pouring in through the trees. Warmth rising, settling into the day. I walk early and long with both dogs. It’s a red red morning. The river is red and the treetops too. I am listening to a new audio book. I have chosen carefully after the thrill of listening to Into the Planet which has been so captivating; I didn’t want it to end. The trick, with Audible, is to download an excellent book that is also an excellent recording and excellent narration. Sometimes the author is the best narrator, as in the case of Jill Heinerth and Natasha Tretheway and Trevor Noah. Not the case, however, with Kamala Harris and her memoir. But, of course, she had to read it herself. And I like her and I was so interested in the details of her personal history and story, but sadly, she is not a good reader. No dramatic talent, but a brilliant mind. But, I digress. I’m completely captivated by Caroline Fraser’s Prairie Fires, below, and the narration is excellent. The American history revealed behind her origin story is fascinating and tragic and illuminating.

“By 1867, there were only fifty Dakota left in Minnesota. That year, a baby girl was born just across the Mississippi, in a little house in the Big Woods.”
― Caroline Fraser, Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder

Set against nearly a century of epochal change, from the Homestead Act and the Indian Wars to the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression, Wilder's dramatic life provides a unique perspective on American history and our national mythology of self-reliance. Offering fresh insight and new discoveries about Wilder's life and times, Prairie Fires is the definitive book about Wilder and her world.

https://www.audible.com/pd/Prairie-Fires-Audiobook/B0772VNX7B

Narrated by: Christina Moore

The news about the virus growing, spreading, infecting, killing people––and being denied, is disheartening. Autumn scents of New England stir memory and excitement, anticipation about holiday feasting and family and friends. We are fortunate, we will have a new baby as a distraction. But to hear it won’t be wise for families and friends to be with loved ones is sad. And, still, a little hopeful. If it’s for this one year. One year to get through. And then be on the mend, with a vaccine? This is a reason to hope. As I reached home, passing the dry brook, my eye caught the beautiful red leaf on the vine. The one that was lit from behind, the one that looked like a holiday gift, with the shadow of vine like a bow tied. I knelt beside it, and breathed in its beauty. I felt nourished, and grounded, and hopeful. This sunny, deep, organic red felt like an organ in my own body, pulsing with gratitude for this day.