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Sunday, October 28, 2007

So... I just e-mailed SpringHill about the possibility of returning next summer.

I just keep getting sucked right back in...

Posted by Anonymous at 11:20 AM

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"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Emily Dickinson

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Abby: Graphic Designer and Photographer in Grand Rapids, MI

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"I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."

C. S. Lewis