I was drawn off the busy streets, my round of errands, into the lovely precincts of the apricot orchard behind the library that hasn't yet been cut down to make room for more sterility and fuss. We desperately need places of sanctuary like this—within ourselves, as well.
I am not bound for any public place, but for ground of my own where I have planted vines and orchard trees, and in the heat of the day climbed up into the healing shadow of the woods.
—Wendell Berry
image: Christie B. Cochrell, Orchard, Los Altos
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