"Thoughts on Painting"

The Mountains Breathed

"Sometimes, on mild summer nights, he would spread a blanket somewhere on a freshly mown meadow, lie on his back and look up at the starry sky... And sometimes, if he lay there long enough, he had the impression that beneath his back the earth was softly rising and falling, and in moments like these he knew that the mountains breathed."

 ... from A Whole Life by Robert Seethaler

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Stacy Caldwell 3 Comments