Why don’t you write a book about mountains?, he asks me
And I think of my fingers against the rock
And the smell of pine trees
And my back against the Andes
Love
an ode to travelling
an ode to travelling
Why don’t you write a book about mountains?, he asks me
And I think of my fingers against the rock
And the smell of pine trees
And my back against the Andes
My Maddy Travel 