Crow’s Fire

an Art of Dying fragment

(This is one of the earliest memories this life)

It is a pristine winter’s day. February would be my guess, probably around ten in the morning. The surrounding landscape is draped in feet of snow, glistering in the sunlight.

At this time, I’m staying with my father’s mother (farmor) Irene, in her little house in the miniscule village of Mattarbodum (four, perhaps…

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Ulf Wolf

Ulf Wolf

Raised by trolls in northern Sweden, now settled on the California coast a stone’s throw south of the Oregon border. Here I meditate and write. Wolfstuff.com.