Gorgeous. I love it when I encounter a trapdoor, a portal that connects past self to present self in the way you described here. Where will the portal take us next? There's something ripening here, an anticipation of finding yourself holding the core of something again. I feel it.
And so your story took me back to Garnish Island in County Cork, Ireland, where lush gardens thrive in the mist and old stones tell their stories. This peaceful place, with its timeless beauty and gentle sea breeze, is a true sanctuary. I'm so thankful to read your piece, which lets me glimpse how the golden apples of the sun weave like a red thread through place and time. It reminds me of Yeats and Maud Gonne—though Maud wasn't interested in Yeats' obsession with her, the beauty of connection still shines through. Love it. Thank you.
Lindsey, the experience of reading your pieces always feels to me like a full-sensory immersion. I love how you weave the threads here for your own golden-apple tapestry. Thank you. (Also, I was thrilled to see a post from you arrive in my inbox! Always an enormous treat, and I love that the space between posts gives me time to come back and marinate my senses in your words.)
This was gorgeous. So much lushness and every sentence felt rich with its own sweet, ripe fruit. NOW I want to read The Golden Apples by Eudora Welty as I remember seeing it somewhere but by TBR pile already looks like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Thank you for this one xo
Gorgeous. I love it when I encounter a trapdoor, a portal that connects past self to present self in the way you described here. Where will the portal take us next? There's something ripening here, an anticipation of finding yourself holding the core of something again. I feel it.
Thank you so much, Hannah. 🌸
And so your story took me back to Garnish Island in County Cork, Ireland, where lush gardens thrive in the mist and old stones tell their stories. This peaceful place, with its timeless beauty and gentle sea breeze, is a true sanctuary. I'm so thankful to read your piece, which lets me glimpse how the golden apples of the sun weave like a red thread through place and time. It reminds me of Yeats and Maud Gonne—though Maud wasn't interested in Yeats' obsession with her, the beauty of connection still shines through. Love it. Thank you.
Thanks for reading, DD! You had me at "a red thread through place and time" ❤️
Oh, wonderful! And I can't believe August's story! ✨✨✨
He’s a dream
Beautiful piece of writing, Lindsey.
Thank you, Emma! ❤️
Beautiful piece of writing, Lindsey.
Lindsey, the experience of reading your pieces always feels to me like a full-sensory immersion. I love how you weave the threads here for your own golden-apple tapestry. Thank you. (Also, I was thrilled to see a post from you arrive in my inbox! Always an enormous treat, and I love that the space between posts gives me time to come back and marinate my senses in your words.)
This is so kind of you to say, Jan! Thank you so much 🌸
Lindsey I adore your writing. And this is so beautiful. 💛
Beautiful storytelling. I'm always transfixed in time with your writing. Looking forward to stopping time, resting in a hammock with your book!
This was gorgeous. So much lushness and every sentence felt rich with its own sweet, ripe fruit. NOW I want to read The Golden Apples by Eudora Welty as I remember seeing it somewhere but by TBR pile already looks like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Thank you for this one xo