Here is my company on a wistful morning walk. Along with Lori, Sara and Cooper.
And meadowlarks singing from the tops of trees.
The obituary for Larry Calloway’s daughter, Lara, who I remember only as a little girl, appeared in the New Mexican this morning — the words as lovely as her spirit, I’m sure, and written by her father, no doubt.
May beautiful skies always be with you, Lara.