I traveled yesterday, south, back
from the maddening stench of asphalt and fumes into the welcoming arms of my ancient
hills. Ancient with smooth stone and
cold stream, primeval mountains worn round over eons of earth’s gradual creep
of wind and rain. And even though astronomy
declares the sun setting in the west, for me, yesterday, it set in the south
over my beloved mountains as they glimmered, “Welcome Home!”
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