River
Suam, once placid and gentle,
Is
in an unmistakable fury:
Her
countenance is that of an angered chief
And
her bellow roars across the rocks
We are at this moment, fellow pilgrim, treading on the boulders of this hill upon weathered rocks and rotting roots to smell a whiff of nature’s scent or to spot footprints on molten lava.
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Echoes of the Hills is all about you. I would love to hear your echo...