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Jormogundr
My house is in the hills above Trujillo. A very simple place. Pinkstones that warm in the sun. A kitchen garden that smells of herbs in the day, jasmine in the evening. Through the gate is a giant poplar. Figs, apples, pears. The soil, Marcus- black. Black like my wife's hair. Grapes on the south slopes, olives on the north. Wild ponies play near my house. They tease my son. He wants to be one of them.
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refs_unpersons
The main melody is so tasteful. Carefully constructed. It almost seems to slow a little too much but then it hangs there perfectly before it moves on. Very nice.
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