On my walk along the lake I spotted a maple leaf, dried to death by the intense summer heat, stunning in its aridity. Unable to ignore its call, I snatched it up and carried it home to await the muse.
On my walk along the lake I spotted a maple leaf, dried to death by the intense summer heat, stunning in its aridity. Unable to ignore its call, I snatched it up and carried it home to await the muse.
Spirituality Without Borders: Reflections on Spiritual Practice 
Thank you for you
This day is gift, open it quickly!
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Bless you, Pattie.
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Lovely.
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Thank you, Mo. Its very much a crone piece, isn’t it?
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