The Spanish landscape reminded me of the long drives I’d taken in the southern states. The ground was dry and the air, fresh and crisp; it was akin to stepping into summer. The warm air filled the spot in me that had been longing to roam the Hueco Desert. The sun, it infiltrated me so deeply, I melted. This was pure enjoyment. My pre-coming wavering had been in vain. We were around a delightful combination of old friends and Sarrasonna rock. My body felt light and strong; movements came easily, relaxed and without thinking. It was back to basics; simple, pure and innocent. There were no …
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