Sunday, August 5, 2012

"Light strikes a deal with each coming night"

A silvery mist descends on rolling hills. Enveloped by steady drizzle, clouds, and dusk - there is little to do besides light a candle, listen to strings, and dream. So many of these days spent on the other side of glass- by profession or pleasure, draws a strange stirring in my heart for life in the woods. Humidity of climate, rain drops on my lips, the warmth of wool and down. We used to do this evening meeting with campers, going around in a circle sharing an answer to one question before bed. My favorite was "if you were any type of weather, what would you be?". As the light drains from the Blue Ridge, and layers of landscape deepen in matted finish, I can tell you, tonight, I would be this.

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