Day 111: Many long years ago, word came to my ears about a special place, one the teller of the tale had never seen himself and only knew through word of mouth, but he related its wonders to me in words which opened a scene in my mind's eye onto a broad valley filled with wildflowers and meandering rivulets of chuckling water. It called to me as surely as the North called to the sourdoughs of a century ago. By the fading glow of a Coleman lantern in an isolated cabin, I resolved that some day, I would go there. It took me twenty years or so, but when I found it, I knew I had found "home." Over the next 25 years, I returned there many times, and on the occasion I knew would be the last, I brought back the small handful of memories shown here in the vase. Among the things on my shelves, these dried seedheads are one of my dearest treasures, as is the wooden bear, hand-carved by sister-of-my-heart Alison.
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