Went up the tree tonight with Stan.  Still no human habitation in sight. The tree put on lots of new growth this year.  Tips no longer yellow-green but whitish-olive, still tender though. ¦The farm, my mistress, my passionate affair, returned after two years.  Tempestuous love-hate. It beguiles and tortures and surprises and overwhelms me. I would fight for it as for wife and child.

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 5th, 1975 and is filed under Miscellaneous. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.