It is odd, the twists that life will sometimes take. The ewe that you think will give birth with ease dies bringing forth a two-headed lamb. Or the ski trail that you have been told is treacherous, you navigate easily.

A pine needle fell in the forest. The hawk saw it. The deer heard it. The white bear smelled it

It was the difference between walking with a stranger and walking with your heartmate. It was the difference between working for duty and working for love.

It is odd, the twists that life will sometimes take. The ewe that you think will give birth with ease dies bringing forth a two-headed lamb. Or the ski trail that you have been told is treacherous, you navigate easily.

That's the trouble with loving a wild thing: You're always left watching the door.

The joy I feel is immense; it burns inside me as though I have swallowed a piece of the sun.

And telling a story, I suppose, is like winding a skein of spun yarn- you sometimes lose track of the beginning.