There is a valley north of San Francisco where the moon shines her love. Mountains stand tall and proud, rooted to the ground, protecting the valley floor. The North and East mountains are darker, the protectors. They are covered with tall, earthy green trees that, on grey mornings, fog tangles in on its way over the mountain crest, clearing just before noon. ~excerpt from prose
"Moon Love Valley, California,"
The Tuxedo Archives: Vol. 2012
, Article 11.
Available at: https://scholar.dominican.edu/tuxedolit/vol2012/iss1/11