The boxwoods planted in the park spelled LIVE. I never noticed it until they died. Before, the entwined green had smudged the word unreadable. And when they take their own advice again—come spring, come Easter—no one will know a word is buried in the leaves. I love the way that Mary thought her resurrected Lord a gardener. It wasn’t just the broad-brimmed hat and muddy robe that fooled her: He was that changed. He looks ...
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- Editor’s Note
Issue 55: Seeking silences, Yellowstone's extreme life, and the ironies of wildfire. /
- Traveling into Silence
A journey into two of the quietest places on earth. /
- Life in the Cauldron
Meet the hearty tenants of Yellowstone’s deadly hot springs. /
- Wildfire’s Dangerous Renewal
Awe and lessons from Peshtigo, Yellowstone, and Fort McMurray. /
- Wonder on the Web
Issue 55: Links to amazing stuff.
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