When I wake at in the morning at the cabin, the first thing
finding my attention is a huge map of Montana on the wall opposite my bed. This is no accident. I love maps.
And, well, I love Montana.
Within the dark folds of the mountains, bedside the lakes and
across them, along the blue-vein rivers, from end to end, and from tip to toe
of that map, my memories reside.
The map is me.
I am the map.
No comments:
Post a Comment