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In the Hills


It rains in western Washington.

A whole bunch. 

Which works out great…

for the trees.  And for the moss on the front of our roof that shouldn’t be there.

But what I’ve realized is that the rain–in its wake–creates a sanctuary in the hills.  

Like a built-in lounge chair.

Or a bunch of green on a backdrop of more green.

Sometimes the trail is wide and rocky.

And the log just long enough for two.

Sometimes a rock is place enough for a break.


And sometimes on a rock we breakdown.

You know…

There’s peace in the hills…

Peace.  And promise.  And love.


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