The sanctuary in which I’ve experienced the most divine bliss is landscaped with mud, ticks and decaying leaves. Pollen drifts across the rocky path that’s all but impassable due to a fallen birch tree. Birds tweet the hymns in this wilderness chapel — a woodpecker is rhythm-keeper and a crow provides the baritone.
The Dirtiest, Most Divine Sanctuary
The Dirtiest, Most Divine Sanctuary
The Dirtiest, Most Divine Sanctuary
The sanctuary in which I’ve experienced the most divine bliss is landscaped with mud, ticks and decaying leaves. Pollen drifts across the rocky path that’s all but impassable due to a fallen birch tree. Birds tweet the hymns in this wilderness chapel — a woodpecker is rhythm-keeper and a crow provides the baritone.