out there.

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spent a couple hours searching body memories for crochet technique. 

i could knit blind-folded. 

but this old-newness felt quite odd, in my head and my hands. 

feeling the need to stretch muscles knotted-up from heretofore snowshoe trips, 

i bid adieu to the house and took a quick walk up coyote hill. 

i stood in my usual spot and recited mary oliver poetry. 

a wind arose quite suddenly and carried my prayers onward....

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