I grew up in the mountains. High altitude or high enough. In front of my house was a huge granite formation that we climbed. The Sierra was not really talked about because no one needed to say it, it was always there. Was the pass open? When could we swim in the lakes again? The sparkle of frozen asphalt. The migration of the sandhill crane.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what home means and the bioregion that shapes my daughters feeling of home too. An absolutely beautiful reflection. I loved your poem too 🤍
I’ve been thinking a lot about what home means and the bioregion that shapes my daughters feeling of home too. An absolutely beautiful reflection. I loved your poem too 🤍
Absolutely lovely.