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Everywhere we walk, I feel like I’m on a constant vigil to protect Kat from the spines and barbs and utter wickedness of the cacti.  Four year olds are curious and not always steady on their feet, which leaves me sounding like a broken record. “Don’t touch it.” “Be careful.” “That’s gonna hurt.”  It makes me feel kind of bad for her.  You see, I spent all of my childhood and most of my adult life being able to reach out and touch flowers and grasses and trees.  I’m tactile that way – wanting to know how everything feels.  It’s one of those things I’ve never been able to resist; the soft silk of a rose petal or a downy leaf of Lamb’s Ear.  The desert is simply full of jagged edges and sharp corners, which doesn’t exactly feed my tactile urges…or my desire for a soft place to land.

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One Comment

  1. Lis…great perspective and framed beautifully…as always!! Cath

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