Tricia

“For a while I could not remember some word
I was in need of,
and I was bereaved and said: where are you,
beloved friend?”
― Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings: Poems

“We “don’t expect female texts to have universal things to say,” Loofbourow writes, so we dismiss them outright, without any real consideration. We only glance at them, and we think that’s enough to get all the info we need: they’re just girl stories.”
― Tabitha Carvan, This Is Not a Book About Benedict Cumberbatch: The Joy of Loving Something--Anything--Like Your Life Depends On It

“Desert hair, her mother had called it. Luzia hadn’t understood what it meant at the time, but it had pleased her because it felt special.

Even now that she knew better she sometimes took the pins from it and felt the weight of it in her hands. It stayed damp long after washing, held the scent of almond oil in its coils. Hair that had survived the destruction of the temple, the Roman legions, the long road to Morocco, that had endured conquest, and conversion, to be tied up like a secret in her little white cap. Hair of the sands, of sun-washed stones, of a horizon she would never see. Desert hair.”
― Leigh Bardugo, The Familiar

“These Serviceberries were not coerced, and their carbon footprint is nothing. Maybe that's why they taste so good - they come only this time of year - these ephemeral sips of summer, without the aftertaste of harm.”
― Robin Wall Kimmerer, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World