Now matter where I go and what lands I learn the place that is mine, the one that I speak is the one of my home. Not the City (though I have my own intimate relationship with it) but the woods, streams, rivers and fields around the cabin. This is the place that I know, by sight, sound, taste and smell. This is the land where my senses grow multiplying, it is a place where I can feel water, know when animals are near.  My attachment is rooted in long walks alone starting when I was only a little older than older. It is intense and sometimes the land in its autumn honest is too knowing. Still I make time to be alone with my woods, walk the secret paths of my childhood. I return to my life renewed and a little sad.

the colors of honesty

bend

noise

beginninng

meditation

flow

rythmn

height

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