"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."
mmm the scent to freshly cut wood.
Yeah, we have a lot of it after last weekend's storms.
Beautiful to see the shape and pattern of rings in the pigeon's wing picked up in that pale patch in the tree trunk. Nature is a sublime shape shifter, isn't she? A clause of this type should be added to the law of conservation of matter.
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