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What if…. How lives are made.

in Adventure Backpacking Culture 411 views

My husband is asleep beside me. His light breathing has changed to gentle snores. Other than that it is so quiet in the house that I can hear the cheap plastic kitchen clock ticking away. Outside this late in the year it is too cold for the loons and their mournful calls. The frogs sleep in their frigid deathlike slumbers and the insects have all gone to ground. Continue Reading

4 minute read

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