 | | 2014-05-14 22:13
From blog Amy Nelson
The mountain life
A dream of living in the mountains haunts me, like a cold silver spoon pressed against a bare belly, I cannot escape it. When I try to fall asleep at night, the same story flutters across my eyelids: There I am, wandering through a field of wild flowers as if there is a skipping rope beneath me. I have no sleeves on my blouse, no worries, no sorrow, only the sun bouncing between the mountain and my shadow. It is a home for the rabbits and the long-legged deer. It is a home for me and all of those living things that I love. I collect edible mushrooms for a stew but I know it is far more than ingredients I am searching for, it is the way of living that...
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