Writing

He is just a boy, timid and skinny; an uncertain acolyte of a godlike landscape.Fearful of his father but still under his wings; he fishes alone as far away as he dares.Sky painting, lake slap-lapping on rocks, sun sparkling off the surface like a hundred thousand flashbulbs in a stadium,…

How can the outside be inside?      I have found my center of the Universe.  My touchstone for all that is eternally real.  For you, there may be a different place, or a memory, or a feeling.  For me, the nexus of the timeless exists in the Trinity Alps of…