Remembering Tornados, and Prayers Lifted Up

By Elizabeth Pinborough

My family moved back to Utah the summer before I began ninth grade. As we drove across the country in reverse exodus, we joked that at least we didn’t have to worry about tornadoes any more. In our closest scrape with one of those monster storms, we had spent what felt like hours huddled beneath …

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By Sarah Dunster

When new, ungracious winds trouble the waters and I worry I’m growing smaller in your eyes, come lay your hand on my twisted hip and be, with me, the days when our tomatoes grew wild and red, and babies breathed sweetly on our faces. If memory doesn’t serve to bring it perfectly, let me say …

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Water, wind, earth and fire (and cyclones)

By Kellie Purcill

If my soul had a natural setting, it would be the densely treed Australian Snowy Mountain ranges, grey fog a draping necklace in the cleavage of the mountains and valleys. There is a particular palette of greens and luminous browns that create it, a eucalypt mossy tang to the air, a hitch of woodsmoke and …

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By Marilyn Nelson Nielsen

We are never surprised about the weather anymore Although, heaven knows, we are often wrong. The weekly Highs and Lows parade themselves, Prancing smugly across our eardrums Or sashaying through the emphatic lips Of their fawning prophets, the InfoGraphics. They drape themselves, unashamed, Along our consciousness, till they have robbed us Of even that most …

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