  |  | 2016-10-08 16:24
  From blog Rosalind Jana 
 
 Walking, Wandering, Striding, and Stomping                                                  I went out at just before 5pm, weaving my way through concrete until I finally hit grass. Grass became woods became ferns became hills and sky – so much sky, stretching gloriously wide and gloriously blue. The wind juddered at my ears. I climbed the final stretch, red-cheeked and out of breath, heaving myself onto a rock to stare at the town I’d just climbed out of. We over-use the phrase “on top of the world”, but here it was apt: capturing what it feels like to stand, elevated above everything, aware of scaling this huge mound of rock and earth that, from down there in the valley, seems boundlessly large; to know... 
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    Language: English
 
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