Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Winter’s Walk By Cheryl Moore On these dark mornings I feel the fog’s kiss on my cheek As though waking me to a new day; So unlike a much drier place I once lived so many years ago Where dust storms were more likely. I walk to the river where The fragrance of wild fennel fills the air Reminding me of the black liquorish I loved as a child. On the muddy banks wild fowl often appear On their daily hunt, bringing to mind They too fill their senses. We are not so unlike in our goals. When Chery Moore came to California in the early 1960’s, she realized she’d found her home. Then moving to Petaluma in the 70’s, she was as close to paradise as she’d ever be. Travel has taken her…