If only all could hear the words of silent ancient earth. Continue reading “Ancient watcher.”
It’s just another day before a storm.
The sun is felt even from behind the clouds, and the heat hangs in the air. Continue reading “Before the storms.”
A fine road it was, one they believed would show their stature. In a house made fortified and rich upon the foundations of a humble clan house. Continue reading “The road.”
It’s always so much like a waterfall. The slow and steady streams of life cascading down the rock. Continue reading “The crest.”
The last traces of winter are burned when the fires of old bedding and dead wood reach toward the sky. Continue reading “In firelight.”