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in other words // sweet solitude

“when i stood alone on the gentle swell of the prairies in my youth and felt the sting or caress of the wind and held my head to the skies and breathed the hope of the blue and white and gold of the freedom above the horizon i was less alone than i have ever…

the hunger

fierce is the longing for my home place, an intangible ache marrow-deep. shaped by her fields and her bayous, her mysteries and misfits and beasts. borne of her soil, married to her seasons, my rhythms shift and change in her absence. her likeness haunts me, ablaze in the kaleidoscope of colors at sundown or the song…

in other words // roots

“are we misled by the fact that we move freely on the earth and are not rooted to it in the same way as trees to the ground or fingers to the hand?” -alan watts, cloud-hidden, whereabouts unknown the undisciplined tongue alan wattsblogfreedommississippiphotographyquotestravelwomen