Summer always feels like the bridge between one version of ourselves and the next. Sometimes that bridge is made of steel and stone and there’s a deep and abundant river below. And sometimes it’s just a rope swing over a gorge.
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Summer always feels like the bridge between one version of ourselves and the next. Sometimes that bridge is made of steel and stone and there’s a deep and abundant river below. And sometimes it’s just a rope swing over a gorge.
Read More