Detail Man
New Member
Lensman,
Every Spring this silent sentry of time arises again from seeming nothingness to gaze fairly upon the winding legs of the Dear Lady of the Creek, spreading it's wings growing longer by the day, to bask for a time in her warm and humid folds for a time, sipping in the Summer like a fine wine, only to return to a nearly unrecognizable stub in Winter, waiting to once again remember and shape eternity ...
Every Spring this silent sentry of time arises again from seeming nothingness to gaze fairly upon the winding legs of the Dear Lady of the Creek, spreading it's wings growing longer by the day, to bask for a time in her warm and humid folds for a time, sipping in the Summer like a fine wine, only to return to a nearly unrecognizable stub in Winter, waiting to once again remember and shape eternity ...