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Freeranger · M
I picture this of course, on a remote camp on a lake in northern Maine....a case of self-imposed isolation where those of us, comfortable with a certain amount of solitude gather to embrace dropping off their grids.
A gift to her, she had never experienced the joy and silence in simple things, and required tasks that merely enhanced that sense of happy silence and solitude she had never known before. It was as if, she had been transformed, and she was grateful for this change in her life.
He had just come back over to this chair, having fed the woodstove, and, in her gratitude, leaving her chair, she came over and sat on in his lap, surprising him, straddling him, and leaning forward in joy....she hugged him gratefully.
A gift to her, she had never experienced the joy and silence in simple things, and required tasks that merely enhanced that sense of happy silence and solitude she had never known before. It was as if, she had been transformed, and she was grateful for this change in her life.
He had just come back over to this chair, having fed the woodstove, and, in her gratitude, leaving her chair, she came over and sat on in his lap, surprising him, straddling him, and leaning forward in joy....she hugged him gratefully.