Hello from the farm on the Easter Shore of Maryland.
Now a city girl my roots are deep and strong in the soft earth of the farm. When our family escapes to the farm I find myself holding my breath to savor the smell of fresh, exposed earth in my lungs. As the calendar rolls from Advent, to Christmas and then into Epiphany the farm and farmer rest. The tractors are quiet in the barns as Dad walks the fields praying the young green wheat to bountiful maturity. The farm house holds centuries of christmas tradition. Along with a warm haven for the weary farmer.
Peace on earth,