To a Place of Tranquility. And memories both good and bad. Dominated by the memory of Hannah. Gone now for a year an a half. Our love for her wafts through the air of this place and is what moves the needles of the pine trees in place of wind. Someone caughs and you know. They are fighting back the ache that just entered their hearts and tried to come up their throat in a sob. Every head that is bowed is thinking of her, every wistful farway look is remembering.
It still hurts. After all this time. It still hurts.