S. Trost
The Healing Stream
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The mountains always call me back.
I come to Log pod Mangartom to ascend their peaks and let their stillness settle into me. A ritual awaits—my first visit to the Loška Koritnica stream. Its icy touch revives me, washing away the wear of weeks past. The stones beneath my feet feel ancient and grounding; the sun on my back, a quiet benediction. I leave renewed, thankful for the mountains’ embrace.
I come to Log pod Mangartom, drawn by the call of the peaks. The mountains rise above, steadfast and knowing, while the valley below offers a quiet return.
A ritual awaits me - the first touch of the Loška Koritnica stream. As soon as I arrive, I seek its waters, a silent greeting. Where the path meets the river, I step in, barefoot on smooth, timeworn stones. The icy current moves around me, washing away the weight of days past, carrying stillness into my bones.
When the chill takes hold, I climb onto a sunlit rock and let warmth settle back in. For a moment, nothing else exists - only the stream, the wind, the steady presence of the mountains. I offer my gratitude to the water, the light, the land itself - for their welcome, their quiet healing.
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