Lyme Blog

These are places which the world would allow me to experience. A continent other than this.

I cut through walkways annd peered into family granary bins. I rubbed my hand along the jagged clay facia and took small dips down narrow steps. Centuries old. A sense of existence.

The Babesia was with me during these travels. The word was not yet in my vocabulary, however. The anxiety and fear and tears were not persistent in my heart and psyche. Madness was not looking up at me from all those shadowy canisters. Curiosity and joy for life were ever present.