Sunday, March 25, 2007


Late afternoon walk on a Sunday
through Foster Fields. The snow
has melted away and oddly a few
trees have little yellow leaves
that have survived the long
winter. During a breeze the
rustling sounded like rushing
water. This is a photograph that
I found online and the dramatic
light reminds me of late afternoon
in the woods here...that and almost
every novel by Thomas Hardy.


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