Field + Bone

journal

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stars fell on Alabama

As we prep for our move back South, I find myself eyes closed, breath intentional, often. Pulling in the smells of the river, the mountains, the rocks, and evergreens, and then doing it again, and then yet one more time. A sense that I for some reason hope writes it’s pathways out in memory and story to somehow come even more alive in the South’s opposing landscapes and tales.