Always inconstant...

By bikeyPete

Listening to quietness

A shroud, fallen amongst tree and over shrub, glistening spiderweb orbs reflecting worlds of mist. Lonely ghosts appear and fade without a sound, noiseless as if no longer tormented. Birdsong drifts from invisible perches, coming into your ear as if on a boat gently bobbing up and down, inconstant and wavering.

The world lies asleep, magically transformed to a monochrome wonder of ethereal dreams.

The ride to work was bitter....a Monday to boot!

The countdown to the holiday begins.

The desert and the sun awaits!

Light...and walking boots...

Ahhh!

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