. . . whispers of the waxing moon, twilight visitors, newly hanged holiday decor swaying in the mild breeze, hounds lounging in their newly-brushed fur sprayed with apple cider, feral cats passing by, birdies fly and flutter in their new houses, the trees dance, the flowers curl to sleep, and the toads come hopping back and forth but their huge black playmate Bogart is not around anymore. . . so many have left . . . yet so many have come . . . and stayed . . . and embedded themselves in my heart and mind . . . as I caress my tired hands . . . and rest my weary self and i smile and knew . . . it is another special day and i am in the midst of it . . .
For Dragonstar's Black and White Weekend.
For Dragonstar's Black and White Weekend.
6 comments:
nice shot
Ok - where's Bogart? The explosion of light in the upper right reminds me of a beginning, a white bang, if you will. Maybe Bogart leaving and letting you all know that there really is a place somewhere over the hills out there? Again nice and bravo, Lui, for words and photo.
Nice picture...
A truly beautiful sky!
So many nice words you are coming with here, and a lovely sky!! A little dramatic sky I can say! I hope you and your nice dogs will come another day and visit me as well, then you must come inside in the warm and I'll serve you a hot cup of tea or coffee.. :) The dogs can get to taste the Norwegian water, if they want to.. ;)
Have a nice weekend!
May Bogart rest in peace!
Lovely! Well done!
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