I grew up with a mountain in my front yard -- a small one as mountains go but I was smaller. It was also distant, dark and mysterious and I was just arms and legs below my eyes. The mountain was a lure. I learned to walk distance, climbing it. Climbing took you to where the stars began. A disappointment! The stars were farther off than the ridge of Mount Penn.
I learned to read sitting on my grandfather's lap and watching his finger scan the words as he read aloud. I learned to love reading resting on tombstones in a wide, dark cemetery with meandering paths among more...
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