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Home is where your heart is
I prefer mist in Evergreen trees, the feel of rain on my face, the smell of cold clear mornings.
Sparkling frost on spring flowers,
to everblooming tropics.
Thunderstorms and rain on tin,
to constant sun in my hair.
Creaks in trees when the wind howls,
to overwhelming heat that's nothing special.
I may wander but I will return, for I prefer this paradise
to anything else.
My home The Pacific Northwest.
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My small home at the bottom of Mt. Rainier.