Hope Always Goes Clean
What happens when you find an old version of yourself in a box of dusty photographs, and realize you don’t miss her, but you’re awfully glad somebody took her picture?
This week in Stable Roots, I’m turning a forgotten little building at Lavender Hill into a home for thirty years of Bramblewood Stable's history. Along the way, I’m thinking about the power of photographs, the people and horses who make us who we are, and what it means to look honestly at the life behind you without either wishing it away or wanting it back.
And it all comes down to four words given to me by a reader: Hope…
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