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Poem – Heartbeat
In the depths of winter, when I stand as one of the white birch when the ravens come to rest atop silent pines and the fields calm I finally know I am alive when I hear my heartbeat.
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Road Home
The road home, over the hill, into the sky.
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Trail Building and Fall
Fall is the perfect time of year for building trails through the woods. Most tree leaves have fallen, the intense underbrush of summer, including small trees, weeds, and tall grasses, have wilted. The trail emerges and you can more easily find where you left off the previous fall. Passing by birch, pine, oak, and maple…