The sun was pushing its way over the far eastern fringe of trees, the sky a bright, brilliant, yellow gold. I stood quietly, listening to the stream bubbling, the birds singing and the raucous cawing of crows. ...... read full story
The sun was pushing its way over the far eastern fringe of trees, the sky a bright, brilliant, yellow gold. I stood quietly, listening to the stream bubbling, the birds singing and the raucous cawing of crows. ...... read full story