Friday, September 6, 2013


In the northernmost part of Newfoundland the wind is so harsh it snatches the breath right out of your lungs and makes the trees grow at vicious angles. Here the sky is brooding and dark one moment and the next it's clearest blue. The landscape is rugged and bleak, cornered by a cobalt sea, and speckled with lichen and berries and moss. It's an old world, full of old magic, and it's making my heart sing.

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