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Pulling threads
Notes and news from the present moment, on its swift way to becoming past.
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Familiar Ground
It was so wet, and varied, as it is there in November. Such dynamic skies! The rain and wind and mist, the drama — things I know, deeply, but after such a long time away, my embodied perspective has shifted. I saw anew the scale of hills and mountains, and the hovering, dawn-coloured light that hugs the horizon’s mist for most of each day. Cedar and salt. A northern, maritime, rainforest place.