
It’s New Year’s Eve.
The quiet authority of winter has already settled in. Walking among the visitors at the Atlanta Botanical Garden, I overhear murmurs as they encounter her: She’s the Virgin Mary. She’s Gaia,…

It’s New Year’s Eve.
The quiet authority of winter has already settled in. Walking among the visitors at the Atlanta Botanical Garden, I overhear murmurs as they encounter her: She’s the Virgin Mary. She’s Gaia,…