it’s always more difficult climbing down the mountain

than it is climbing up.  Last week I hiked up Sulfur Mt. in the Rockies – slow, steady, one foot in front of the other, never looking more than five steps ahead, not looking back, then suddenly, I was there at the top of the world,  my cheeks bright and stinging from the cool icy wind.  Hiking back down – slippery, fast, requiring great concentration. And now I am metaphorically climbing back down the mountain after two weeks living/breathing/dreaming my work…two weeks of meeting fellow writers/artists, fascinating scientists… dreamers/doers.   Back to the day-t0-day world.  Back to working in isolation. Oh it’s not a bad thing… I am with my beloveds… still, I always leave a part of me in the mountains when I go. Here is the magic potion I take to get me back home… I get it on my internet radio, don’t know if it’s available online… it’s worth a try…click on flamenco…I dare you not to feel heat.

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