Is 'rhythm' the word to describe that visual pleasure of a crooked crack in stone, a crooked branch of blossoms in the sky?
Fall definitely lends itself to images of decay, dying, dryness.
This is my bit of a blog. Rambling words about rambling days. No focus and nothing ambitious. I seem to write most about local color, nature, and animals, and there is an incomplete chunk about my road trips of 2011.
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