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Mountains have been a recurring theme in my life, sometimes physical, sometimes psychological, always evocative and emotional, as they were that Friday afternoon, December 13, 1968. It was sunset and I was standing on a snow covered mountain …    I heard a shrill cry, and looked up to see a large blackbird cut a sharp turn, dive quickly, slicing the air.  I realized I was alone and desperately lonely…    The only thing I could do was try not to think…            Read the complete Prologue