(Sometimes it’s tough to feel at home in your own city. Which is why I’ve given myself a challenge: each day, for forty days, I’m going to find *one* thing I love about this place. And then I’m going to tell you about it. If you want to follow my journey, start here. Today is Day Forty). This […]
Category: Confessional
A Love Letter on Thanksgiving … Sort-of: Day Thirty-Eight
(Sometimes it’s tough to feel at home in your own city. Which is why I’ve given myself a challenge: each day, for forty days, I’m going to find *one* thing I love about this place. And then I’m going to tell you about it. If you want to follow my journey, start here. Today is Day Thirty-Eight). Dear […]
The day I wrote something almost like a poem, while waiting for a hamburger: Day Twenty-Six
(Sometimes it’s tough to feel at home in your own city. Which is why I’ve given myself a challenge: each day, for forty days, I’m going to find *one* thing I love about this place. And then I’m going to tell you about it. If you want to follow my journey, start here. Today is Day Twenty-Six.) Today, […]
When a Bridge is a Roadside Cathedral & There’s Water Underneath: Day Eighteen
(Sometimes it’s tough to feel at home in your own city. Which is why I’ve given myself a challenge: each day, for forty days, I’m going to find *one* thing I love about this place. And then I’m going to tell you about it. If you want to follow my journey, start here. Today is Day Eighteen.) Yesterday, […]
Just a Long Trail & My Tangled Thoughts: Day Eight
(Sometimes it’s tough to feel at home in your own city. Which is why I’ve given myself a challenge: each day, for forty days, I’m going to find *one* thing I love about this place. And then I’m going to tell you about it. If you want to follow my journey, start here. Today is Day Eight.) I […]
When home doesn’t feel like Home…
Honest words? Sometimes this mountain town I’m living in feels like like a pair of shoes two sizes too small. I’ve been here for two years. The people are kind, the cost-of-living is low, and in autumn the place is shamelessly pretty, its red-and-gold slopes wreathed in fog. Still: some days I lean my head against the back […]
ASHLEY WILSON FELLERS 