Looking up, aware That I had lost the thread and a few moments in quiet reflection, I stood. Having already lost a few guests as they harvested their plant, I spoke to the others. They looked typical for this stage. Most were incredibly stoned, running an eye over the small silvered containers of weed I could see why. Oh well, isn't that what the love of weed is all about? "Friends, this is where your …
showed first 75 words of 2595 total

showed last 75 words of 2595 total
…guests, I smiled as she stepped out. Her favorite pipe, one given her by a Lakota friend over in South Dakota was cradled in her arm, an eagle feather twisting in the evening breeze. I stepped up to her and stopped. Turning, the sun half a hand over the highest peak, we started off, hitting the rough ground of the trail that only we took. scent of warm pine somehow wholesome in suddenly crisp air.