Sunset: 6:16pm. Moon: Waxing gibbous. The first rituals began to make sure the sun would rise each morning, and I often wonder what the last ritual might be.
The silence was stunning. It had presence and weight that nearly muted the birds and the steady beat of three choppers in the sky.
Once again, the question that haunts me when I approach any kind of altar: Am I allowed to pray before you if I don’t understand you?
