The problem with progression is it’s sneaky. 

My grandson is a talker who doesn’t require words.

It’s a new day.  Again.

This is a new road beneath our feet.

Cooking is a very practical expression of love.

It feels like we are in a dystopian graphic novel.

Waiting for dawn is hard.

I had no idea of the scale of this bridge.

I have ample time this year to watch my garden grow.

I get why this has become a national craze.

Stick with me, for this gets a little strange.

This morning’s lightning drives home the point.