... summer gone....

an excerpt from David MacFarlane's Summer Gone (http://www.randomhouse.ca/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780676972801):

"The trailed over the red-brown path, around outcrops of granite and the sheltered clusters of wodden cabins, through the maze of juniper, and over the spine of the northern island to the little bay. Alone, well behind them, their counsellor followed.
"Most of them would not remember this. They would forget names and faces and voices. Things would go.
"But this was also true: every now and then, in one city or another, in high-rises, or townhouses, in unsatisfactory rented rooms, in expensive hotels, in deep suburban silences, alone, or with their unconsoling wives or lovers turning away from their empty arms, they would each dream about the path across the island
"They would know every rock and root and turn and deop. They would feel the weightless air, see the particular skein of a summer evening, smell the pine-needled turf of their racing footfall"


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I have a path like that, that i can go to in my mind. I'm definitely a lucky girl