Behind you stretches a series of footprints. They have brought you here, now. This here and this now, to which you have been pressing.

I have spent some time on dusty roads—pilgrim’s ways that are steeped in equal parts history, mystery, and intention.

There was wind tearing down the treeless pasture, tangling my hair behind me. The ocean wrapped around me on three sides.

My kids and I counted the days we have been quarantined for COVID-19 today. The number is in the fifties. My eldest son looked at me and said, "Mom, that number makes me sad."

Why are we here?

As a student of philosophy, I usually read that question with the emphasis on the Why.