I have been thinking about the St. Lawrence River. The 1000 Islands. Manzanita Island, specifically.
It's that time of year, the almost-spring-in-the-Northeast time of year, when a subset of my internal longings comes out of hibernation to slowly wake up, yawn, stretch their little yearnings-subset arms and legs ... notice their grumbling tummies and the need for (spiritual) food and sustenance ... and begin to plan their trek.
To the River. To the 1000 Islands.
To Manzanita, specifically.