Lazy summer day.
A summer day with nothing to do, so I wander alone around the bogs at Whitesbog looking for Dorthy Whites spirit, hoping to find it in the quite silence of the pines.
We can speak without voice to the trees and the clouds and the waves of the sea. Without words they respond through the rustling of leaves and the moving of clouds and the murmuring of the sea. – Paul Tillich
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