As we move through an asana at the edge of Emily Dickinson’s famous garden, cars zoom along Amherst’s Main Street, trees towering above us. I resist the urge to jump out of my skin as a spider crawls up my arm and onto my chest — for the third time!
As we move through an asana at the edge of Emily Dickinson’s famous garden, cars zoom along Amherst’s Main Street, trees towering above us. I resist the urge to jump out of my skin as a spider crawls up my arm and onto my chest — for the third time!
