After a month stuck in the mud, a few days beneath the Pyrenean sky. A few days spent in another valley, outside, spinning in wild spaces.
A few cays for carding, experimenting, sampling.
A few days of breathing deeply, of feeling the morning sun on our faces, the evening breeze at our backs. Nights of building fires, gazing at stars, falling asleep to the sound of cow bells. Days of spinning beside bubbling streams, searching for blueberries amongst the wild heather.
(After a night in Serris, we wild-camped the next day at Payolle).
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