The bubbling song of a wren in the half-dark makes it suddenly half-light. From now till blue noon, everything else is a footnote.
The view from my front porch every morning, in 140 or fewer characters
The bubbling song of a wren in the half-dark makes it suddenly half-light. From now till blue noon, everything else is a footnote.
(Of course I’m no prophet, I just waited till almost noon to write this!)