Saturday Substack

Composting Anger, Cultivating Care

Dear Substack Community,

The sun slipped behind McKinney Ridge last night leaving a smear of chartreuse and ember—summer solstice light, the kind that lingers like a hymn refusing benediction. We gathered in that glow, barefoot on the grass of Alfred, letting story and song braid us into one long strand of becoming. I stayed offline until this moment, ch…