i grew up at the bottom of that hill. it's not a real mountain but it's the only one around. and it is so, so, so special. i think i might know every corner and niche there. i know the paths, the smell, the wind, that can make you cuckoo and completely mad... and all the special plants and places there. and the view. oh this view i love so much. it's nothing special and not a big thing. but i love it. it feels like everything there would be mine. it's kind of funny and weird... when i see this mountain in spring i think this might be the time i love it the most, than in autumn i'm sure now this must be the greatest thing... and in winter and summer it is even better.
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Are you warm enough? / I remember how the fog comes off the water / And the days are ever shorter / And I worry you’ll be cold / Or have you found someone to hold? / I spent the summer with the curtains drawn against it / Counting all the nights you’ve wasted / Under unfamiliar stars
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