Blue Hole at Laity Lodge
It’s a two-hour drive from the airport in San Antonio to Laity Lodge. I watch the city clutter fall away as we head into the hill country, pass through open land dotted with live oaks and scrubby vegetation.
I’ve tucked my Horseshoe Lake poem in my pocket because I’ve registered for the poetry workshop. It’s not my first choice, but the fiction and nonfiction ones are full. I’ve been playing with poetry, but a workshop? That’s a little out of my comfort zone.
I’m so honored and excited to share this story over at The High Calling today. I’m a little nervous, too, because it’s my first “assignment” for them. So please don’t leave me there alone. Come on over and say hi. (But because I’m traveling today, I might be a little late in responding.)