Wee rowan laddrums me into nighta fabled rhythmconjuring mysticaloneiric encounters There is freedomin dreamingslipping ego’s holdsoul taking flight There is sorrow toofor when the drummer’ssong is donemorning must come. (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Age, a rocky torbegs attitudinal shiftmore wonderthan fortitude Cyclical, actuallywisdom allottingchildish valoura dash of mellow. (For RDP’s prompt: mellow. Image my own.)
It wasn’t the knowledge of stability –chaos had the upper hand back then.It wasn’t even that love was expressed –unconditional an unheard of concept It was an unspoken presencethe reassurance of rocksthe irrepressible allureof a freshwater stream How a child’s heart found encouragementin the whispering windsolace in arbored shelter Naturally the din of home lifeoverpowered […]
Just look at that! Another past-time I enjoy, thinking of starting a bird log.
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My husband said I should do that too. Love my birds.
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I find them most fascinating.
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Gorgeous capture 🙂
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Thanks.
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Lovely! 🙂 ❤
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Thanks Deborah.
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sometimes you just need a love button!
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We do! Thanks.
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You’re welcome!
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He’s intent on getting at the suet!
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Isn’t he! Looks like he’s doing a chin up.
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Yes, he does!
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