Pacing the Path
This past weekend I tromped through the apple orchard with my family, celebrating the changing of the seasons. The soft breeze carried the sweet scent of ripe apples in the air right below the bulging branches. As my girls and their cousins raced off to the corn maze, I lazily followed and lay down in the grass and gazed upward into the depths of the blue sky. Their nervous laughter shrieked up over the cornstalks as they found the curves that turned into a continuation of the path. The divorce transition is one akin to trekking through a corn
