Really missing the woods now and all those magical moments of solitude; the talkative raven, that lone hooting owl above me at night, the singing ice, the dancing fog rolling out over the lake from the swamp at 5 in the morning, the smell of pine resin and fire, and of dried pine needles in the sun, and the sound of nothing but the wind in the trees, how the wind calms down in the evening, and the bats flying over the lake at twilight. Unfortunately I am tied up with numerous obligations, but soon… I have to. Maybe you do too, without knowing it.
Those magical moments of solitude
