Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Sounds of the hollow

Mountain Ash, butterfly weed, wild canaries flitting through the trees. Blue skies bright, heron in sight, heart races to the geese in flight.

Seasonal sounds, autumn is near, little signs are everywhere. Crickets sing and frogs jumping, and the hollow awaits a new beginning.

Nature writes the chapters of life, seasonal stories from left to right. Winter, spring ,summer and all, the sounds of the hollow make a pretty loud call.

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