Susan Worsham’s photos from her birthplace in Virginia pull at so many heartstrings. I’m in awe of these photographs. 

I can remember one particular time when I visited Margaret. I looked out of her large picture window and saw what looked like a nest or hammock of small red berries draped between the winter trees. I asked Margaret what it was. She answered, “Why, that’s bittersweet. Bittersweet on Bostwick Lane.”

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