I feel the thirst of the ground beneath fallen leaves calling out for the beads of moisture beneath my collar, under my arms, in the hollow of my back as I trudge down the mile or so walk along the river. The wind is unseasonably warm and shockingly still, holding the spell of solitude that has descended on the river path. The water is low and slow movi…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Something Like a Body to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.