The Peregrine Review


It is a clear, windy morning when I walk to Hobart Bluff. I perch on a rock in the sun, hoping to find some relief from the cold in its light. While the wind buffets me on my sun-soaked rock, I see Mt. Ashland standing in its rusty-red glory, seemingly impervious to the pointed gusts. It’s hard to believe that even this mountain could be moved with but a touch of faith...