Camping, watching the fog dance above as if it were smoke on a vast cold ocean. The rhythmic sound, of the crushing Pacific tide, soothes my spirit; the little child in me comes to surface and is renewed by the holy waters. Grilling fish on an open fire, drinking wine as my head spins from the scent of the nearby Mendocino forest, I am again and again baptized by the beauty I know so well. At night in the tent, between the silk sheet and Yann’s heartbeat I dream under a million stars.
photo: Vintage satin silk sheet that I use faithfully.
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