An open place


This time of year the sun sets right before 5pm, and there’s a moment while commuting home where I can look west through a field to catch the last rays fading from view. I find myself back in Harvest, driving the long way around jams of traffic leaving the city, preferring the small county roads with sky in the passenger seat. Then the trees and buildings return.

We moved into this beautiful wooded neighborhood a year ago, but my heart yearns for the spaces left behind.