Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Book Excerpt and my front porch

Front porch of cabin. My chair and coffee mug

Running fast down the smooth trail, I began looking up at the trees and  sky, feeling the wind blow through my hair. I loved the smell of the rotting wood of the Adirondack forest ravaged by the “Big Blowdown of 1950”; and on this day, at this time, I was flying; I was happy; I was a gale blowing through my beloved Adirondacks.
             Then, I was lost.

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