The Spaces Between Your Fingers

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Gravel driveways snake through unkempt pastures, deer easily outnumber people, and wooded lots sprawl for acres.  Only a door separates the innards of the hilltop house from a symphony of sparrows, blackbirds, and woodpeckers.  Only a door prevents an army of ants, caterpillars, and ladybugs from raiding her pantries and inhabiting the creases of her vaulted ceilings.  Peacefully unaware, ground hogs lounge just beyond the walls of the hilltop house and plump frogs plop into the refreshing waters of a life-filled pond.  The hilltop house inhales the aromatic fusion of nature and quietly observes the world from the peak of its grassy knoll.  In reverence, she appreciates the transition from green field to looming pines to lush valley.  She carefully listens for the rumbling of a black bear and her cubs, the purring of a Russian Blue cat, and the gabbing of my younger brother and I taking on another adventure.  We plot the location of our newest teepee, flip rocks to unearth salamanders, and scale forty-foot pine trees.  We roam our kingdom together as the house on the hill guards us from a distance until we return to her stronghold for snacks, an episode of Spongebob, or daily chores.  From her backyard deck, we spot a rainbow, admire a sky plastered with billowing clouds, and absorb the tranquility of our youth without realizing how lucky we are to call the hilltop house home.  

The Hilltop House

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