Wind is its own poetry
We continue reading Ibram X. Kendi's How to Be an Antiracist aloud to each other, and we find his voice wise, kind, and deeply insightful. We're a little more than halfway through, grateful for every page. The grasses are dotted with red clover and seed heads that dance on the wind. The hillsides are sprinkled with foxglove and sweet peas, and the valleys are fields of daisies. Heaven. I love summer.