Monday, July 3, 2017

Revisiting Up the Mtn page 54, #177

I knew that after cutting/splitting firewood that if sap seemed to stick everywhere, to my gloves, my overalls, and my hands, that I would be rewarded that night with a crackling popping fire that so soothed me in the dark and moonlight. A crackling that seemed to match up with the sparkling of the stars or moonlight, that is if I didn’t get to much cloud cover that night. 

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