Hermitage You never saw me. I wasn't here. This lone wolf, sneaking through the underbrush on a word-smithing retreat. It's neat to be in the seat of creativity, hiding inside and sliding โ biding my time, with nature filling in the blanks. I was going somewhere, anywhere but here. Now, the trees, the bees, the knees of brush and foliage, rest with the doe and the deer mouse, breathing life into...