Our Time

And the week has slowly continued as I think about all that is important to me. I type this post on my iPhone as I hold my daughter while she sleeps and watch my son as he plays with his trucks. I've seen the pictures this week and I can't turn away, not out of some grim curiosity, but out of the strong feeling that I need to look at the faces and feel, and connect. I'm never going to make sense out of disaster and don't try. I find that my hopes, for all I hold dear, are held fast by the outpouring from the better angles of our nature.

Thank you Photocritic.org for the beautiful photo and Mr. Lincoln for the clarity of your words.