After my husband’s death, looking down was all I could do. Then I saw a dragonfly | Ailsa Piper

How can we find hope when grieving? By surrendering to the sun, the sky, and bounties of nature

I'm late. It's a clear pale morning, and light is seeping into the sky behind the steeple. I'm rushing to meet the sun, to watch it lift out of the ocean. We do this every week, but Old Sol keeps changing the time, rising earlier every day, so I'm racing, scanning the empty street, watching my feet on the stairs behind the sandstone church, scooting down the back lane. Finally, I make it to the crumbling uphill path, its surface perilous after recent storms. Hurry - the sun won't wait.

But no: a stop is imperative.

Sign up for a weekly email featuring our best reads