I promise I am also writing in between walks in the woods, but when the light is like this? It would be a moral failing not to go wandering.
These low stone walls criss-cross every hill, which is hilarious to me since I just reread the first few Earthsea books.
Following deer. Not finding any damn deer.
BLUE.
There is no describing the particular quiet of a pine forest.
Once again, BLUE.
Berries!
I mean, come on.
Come on.
My predecessor in this job left a man named Charles Grady as the winter caretaker. And he came up here with his wife and two little girls, I think were eight and ten. And he had a good employment record, good references, and from what I ve been told he seemed like a completely normal individual. But at some point during the winter, he must have suffered some kind of a complete mental breakdown. He ran amuck and killed his family with an axe; stacked them neatly in one of the rooms in the West wing and then he, he put both barrels of a shot gun in his mouth.
Well. That is quite a story.