Clear your mind and think of this: A sun-filled meadow falling down to the sea. Lupines, buttercups, and daisies carpet the hillside, swaying in the breeze. Mature trees, linden and birch and maple, dot the meadow. Birdsong fills the air. Sunlight dances off the water. A woman sits on an outcropping of granite ledge, rock nearly as old as the earth itself. Nothing exists but this.
No announcement yet.
Primal Journal - Siobhan