The woods at sunset.
The woods at sunset.

The woods at sunset.

Just another peaceful evening in Virginia.
Just another peaceful evening in Virginia.

Just another peaceful evening in Virginia.

If you carry one thing with you today, let it be this: you are smart, you are beautiful, and you are loved.

There will come a time when you believe that everything is finished. That will be the beginning.

    What we see depends mainly on what we look for.

You have built your wall so high that no one could climb it.

The Western Maryland Railway with the beautiful Appalachian mountains in the background.
The Western Maryland Railway with the beautiful Appalachian mountains in the background.

The Western Maryland Railway with the beautiful Appalachian mountains in the background.

The Western Maryland Railway in Frostburg, MD. The steam engine shown above was built in 1916.
The Western Maryland Railway in Frostburg, MD. The steam engine shown above was built in 1916.

The Western Maryland Railway in Frostburg, MD. The steam engine shown above was built in 1916.

My view of the sunset on the family dairy farm.
My view of the sunset on the family dairy farm.

My view of the sunset on the family dairy farm.

One day, you are 17 and you are planning for someday. And then, quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday and so on and so forth, and this is your life. 

The human spirit needs places where nature has not been rearranged by the hand of man.

It is terrible how we spend so much of our lives feeling sad or bad or simply not good enough. In the desire to be something more than what we are, we lose who we really are and in some ways, that is the biggest tragedy. How we can turn a blind eye to the things that are rotting inside of us; the things we could have saved if we had paused to look for them, those cracks that could have been closed. It is the losses that we do not see; they are the ones that affect us the most because we do not mourn for them. 

I’ve seen men lose themselves to whisky and women standing on street corners and idealisms inside of me expect to see something in their eyes. Something that is sad or striving but there is no expression in the lines of their faces. And that is the single worst thing, to look into the face of someone and see absolutely nothing at all. Ghosts, I think, make a person and when those pieces of you are not present, then what else is there to go on for? Most days I want to shake people until their bones rattle inside of their skin and something rattles inside of them and falls into place and makes them realize that maybe somehow, they can regain the lost pieces of themselves. Some human beings are like old buildings; there are parts of them that are frayed and crumbling, but they are not completely gone. I want to remind them that nothing is truly ever lost, not really. And I need to believe in that. I need to believe that people can be saved because if I do not believe, then there is nothing else I can put faith in.

Cat napping.
Cat napping.

Cat napping.