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The Blue Ridge. |
July, ca 2016
Having crossed the Big Muddy and following trails eastward through Mississippi, Alabama and into Georgia, me and old Black Tahoe at long last reached journey’s end. The trail was both kind and cruel as we made our way among the blessing of bright blue heaven and, too, through storm and terrible wind. Many a fellow traveler took their leave of trail to wait out the danger of them dark clouds that drenched and disoriented. Passing through, family was waiting with hearts open to welcome this weary traveler after some 2300 miles put behind. The finishing of this trail, I reckon sure, is only the beginning of another, as I will soon make settlement in mountains north of here. I look ahead with great expectation to the adventure of wondrous discoveries in that unexplored territory, be they new encounters with fishing holes, mountain ridges, peoples or the Great Creator hisself. For now, though, there is rest and comfort with those who I dearly love and have been too long away from. I have not died today. And that is a fine thing. Yours truly…
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