As we hiked at Lory State Park this morning, I kept noticing spots that had burnt in recent fires but were now coming back in, green and full of wildflowers. It made me think of how grief is like that, a fire that burns everything, strips it all bare and raw, but how that doesn’t have to be the end of the story. Given time, sunshine and rain, new seed, things grow, the landscape is restored. The destruction isn’t forgotten completely (notice the singed trees in this picture), but rather it forms the foundation for the new growth. It’s a harsh process, but on the other side, there is something like beautiful.