I finished "How It Went" by Wendell Berry last night. So I was able to read both books of Berry's short stories about Port William before our recent trip to Florida was over.
I was often crying, one time out-right sobbing, sometimes reading portions aloud to Dwayne and talking to him about the text, highlighting many quotes for my common place book.
And I am still thinking about what was said, knowing I'll need to read these books again soon.
Large, deep parts of my soul feel like they have been shifted around.
These are not a books one looks up from to see the world the same as before.
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