Tag: travel
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the city is only beautiful when
The city has never been beautiful to me. When I was five years old, Detroit was a black shadow that held my father hostage at the VA Medical Center. When he had a night shift he didn’t come home until 3 in the morning. Sometimes my mother let my two little brothers and I stay…
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Days 54 – 56
Day 54: Many oofs The mountains are the arms of God. What if you came seeking to be filled but really needed to be emptied even more? What if you came hoping to find yourself again but found more of God? (If you want to hear more about today you’re going to have to ask…
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Days 50 – 53
Day 50: Shiver When I discover “Evensong” is on the itinerary for tonight, I let go a heavy sigh I hadn’t realized was building up in my lungs. *** The Perky Peacock is a tiny coffee shop built into an old lookout tower by the river. They’ve run out of ice. No iced coffees for…
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Days 41 – 44
Day 41: The difference Magdalen College is quintessential Oxford. We make a short trip there in the morning and some of my classmates lead us in psalm and prayer in the very chapel C.S. Lewis would worship in. Our voices rise to the ceiling and reverberate against the carefully stained glass and stone walls. We…
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Days 30 – 36
Day 30: Flowers in your hair Today is about capturing the little moments happening on this big, big span of cliffs. Of individuals losing themselves in the grandeur of the sky, the sea, the space. Of getting lost and somehow still stumbling out of the forest and onto the main road (if it can even…
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Day 29 – Divine
Two drunk and stuttering men sit on a bench at the outskirts of the woods. They flip the tabs off of too many beer cans, jeer at the passersby and chain smoke cigarettes. It’s raining. I hurry past with my resting don’t-mess-with-me face and catch myself judging them. They want to forget. Don’t we all?…
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Days 25 – 28
Day 25: Longing for a home I wander off into the National Gallery, lost in music and beautiful art. Several paintings remind me of my mother: Renoir’s portrait of a woman reclining in a long chaise and cradling a sleeping puppy in her arms, Eugene Carriere’s “Winding Wool,” Elizabeth Louise Vigee le Brun’s “Self Portrait…
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Days 14–17
Wifi is unreliable and time is not always available in generous helpings when traveling. Although I will continue to document things everyday, I will end up having to post them in sets like this one. Bear with me on the longer posts! Also, I will no longer be posting my daily photo challenge here on…
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Day 1 – Light
The idea of waking up unnerved me. Doing so meant leaving behind the blissful oblivion found in sleep and the warmth found beneath familiar blankets. But I turned on some soft music, took out my journal, and managed to spend some time in solitude with God. I realized I was afraid for the day to…