I snapped this picture on my way to the fourth floor. A few years ago I posted pictures of Central American landscapes with sweeping narratives of "partnerships with indigenous peoples." Today, all I've got is a selfie of... well, me.
My nose is getting bigger.
That's my thought of the day. I've no scriptures to tie to it (although it would be easy to literally tie something to it, due to its copious size), and no Thoreau quotes to make me sound smarter. Even so, it is not so insignificant an observation.
My Pappy, my Papaw, and my Poppa. The three generations of Shepherd men before me: James, Harry, and Tom. My dear son, Caleb, I must let you know that as you age your nose will grow. That picture of my Poppa is one of my favorites. I've been letting my hair grow since leaving my role as pastor. Just this week I learned the story behind this picture. He let his hair grow after serving his tour of duty in Viet Nam.
Oh the stories to be told of these four generations of Shepherd men. Five really, Caleb has already scaled mountains (quite literally) of his own. And so yes... my nose is growing. I've damn well earned it.
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