Bordering wild

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Some days I’m out there alone (and I mean really alone – miles and miles from another human being) and I’m blown away.  I’d like to come up with a more eloquent term, but it’s raw and it’s real and simple as it seems, it feels right.  Blown away.  By her beauty.  Her silent strength.  Her still power.  Arms of wind that enwrap me as I stand on the breast of her mountain and listen to the last cry of open waters.

Trying to keep up with my imagination.  The songs and sounds I want to share.  She soars alone with wings silver and delicate as the frost forming on the north facing slope.  I remain grounded.  I run to catch up with her but am never quite there.  Ideas brimming and bubbling.  The lid rattles, ready to explode.

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And there I am, doing no more than stirring a pot of green chili, tossing out hay to my horses, washing dishes and hanging clothes on the line we strung up stairs beside the bed, for frozen jeans take too long to dry.

As Julian mentioned recently, “In a busy world where true literacy is so rare, many people (I think) prefer to look at pictures…”

I hope then, this will do for now.  And even then, there is so much more I wish you could see, wish I could share with you…

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