Thursday, February 17, 2011
Fog & Mist
A day like any other, only warmer. A bit hard to see clearly with the smoke over the fog and the mist, but the spring is now a word that can be recognized. Every good day breeds the notion that the rest of them will remain the same. Hope is eternal.
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"Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude
rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music
that will melt the stars."
Gustave Flubert
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