52 weeks – Jennifer Summer

earth day — Nana used to say that she believed trees were people reincarnated, and you could tell what kind of person […]

52 weeks words + images | week sixteen

37 — Thirty-seven and here’s what I’ve learned: Always say yes to dessert. Enormous hills are meant to be rolled down. Only […]

gardening — Life tells us to bloom where we are planted; essentially, to accept our fate and make the best of it, […]

under seas — When I was a child, escape was crucial to survival. I would close the door to my bedroom and […]

closed windows — It can be a heady thing, thinking of all the other potential lives that lie just outside your own. […]

for her — I have a vast collection of shells, many of which I didn’t even have to look for; they simply […]

move — These shoes are like coming home. Every day, I remind my body of what it can do and from where […]

sur la pointe — Aching bones, shooting pains through the arch of my foot, toes that bruised and bled. I was a […]

cage-free — He told her that her rib cage was big to accommodate the size of her heart. Without the confines of […]

veins — The blue veins traversing beneath your skin are your map. Behind alabaster walls, a current roars through the delicate ropes […]