Sometimes , if I have been irregular, the hill I climb looms like a spectre - something that scares me a little before I trod on its uneven pathways with halting steps. Then, as I climb, as I face the breathlessness with deep gulps of cool air, I relax. The smells of the fresh pudina growing alongside and bright yellow buds dotting the shrubs seem welcoming. Then climbing the hill is like moving my hands over a face - one that I am so familiar with, one that I love.
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Day 46 of 108
I have a steady amount of annoyance today. But it is par for the course . C'est la vie, as they say. But in any case, we lived one more...
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