Image Credit — Sean Fitzgerald Photography

I think we love any cord that binds us to family.

From Night Orchard

She drove an old Buick, down every dirt road in central Florida, and never once did she wash it. Each year was added a coat of the fine black dust that blows on the wind from the coast until it was hard to tell that the paint underneath was blue. In the same way, that same black dust coats the fruit of each December; the citrus…