The Fraser River, between its source and Tete Jaune Cache, its colour otherworldly, a single wild rose in bloom on canes dense with hips. Wish, wish, wish you were here.
The Fraser River, between its source and Tete Jaune Cache, its colour otherworldly, a single wild rose in bloom on canes dense with hips. Wish, wish, wish you were here.
Blue like the sea off the beaches of Sardinia which we just enjoyed. Came home to find our copy of Geist had arrived with an ad, and a story from your book Blue Portugal, which I have now ordered.
The Fraser where I know it best is brown, muscular, not that lovely blue-green, which is how it begins near Mount Robson. You’ll meet it in Blue Portugal, John! (An essay about rivers and the venous system…)