It’s impossible to capture the language of the woods in a picture, to fill a photo with the chatter of birds, the crunch of feet on old leaves and on fallen, rotten limbs, the whisper of wind lifting hair.
Tag: graves
It’s impossible to capture the language of the woods in a picture, to fill a photo with the chatter of birds, the crunch of feet on old leaves and on fallen, rotten limbs, the whisper of wind lifting hair.
Brenda Sutton Rose 