https://traffordhistory.org/lookingback/65ry134 Pine Forest in Shroud © 2014 Bo Mackison
https://traffordhistory.org/lookingback/s9vea4r
https://marcosgerente.com.br/5x0nx7xyc34 Nothing stands in isolation.
Experiences, stories, a life time of truths.
https://boxfanexpo.com/zawrhcpkf Traveling in a forest in fog. Water droplets suspended in the atmosphere, my vision
obscured as I peer fiercely through the mist. To no avail. Not a glimmer or a ghost.
click Moisture permeates the dried, the desiccated. Ragged and spent.
source link
go to link A pulpy mix of leaf litter, feathers, tiny skeletons and detritus.
Life and death and the in-between takes on many forms.
see url A shudder up my spine, bone to bone. And I recall
my grandmother’s shivery words under similar circumstances
https://www.thephysicaltherapyadvisor.com/2024/09/18/hcsdrvxh “Someone walkin’ over my grave.” She’d shake her head, eyes closed,
and chew her cracked lip. Back away from trouble.
go to site I hold out my bare hands in supplication. Help me.
The trees shiver in winter’s wind.
https://www.thoughtleaderlife.com/brfuvxqluj Water drops, sanctified in the sodden oak leaves,
sprinkle upon my bare head and I continue my passage through.
