Thursday, October 14, 2010
The view from our front porch . . . it calls to us each evening, just before sunset, asking us to witness the ever changing patterns presented . . . from brooding clouds to vibrant sunsets and pale pink and purple twilight . . . the hills rest just on the edge of viewing and the song of the west is whispered on the breeze . . . if not for those power-lines it would be perfect view.
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