I quite like looking upwards. Naked earth under my feet, mouth open, eyes resting in the invisible shade of a curved piece of clear glass… upwards I gaze… Trees, the poet once told me, are earth’s desire to touch the sky. Branches, it seemed, are the tree’s desire to touch the earth. Earth’s desire to touch the sky desires to touch the earth… upwards I gaze… my desire looking back into my eyes from up there… hopes… dreams…
Story Of The Footloose 
beautiful thoughts well expressed is living
Thank you dear angel in the dust.
I know you write stories, but are these images yours?
Yes Paula. Camera is a good friend of mine.
🙂 I like them. I hope you won’t mind if I stop by to look at them and skip the stories sometimes due to my being busy. 🙂
When you visit my forest, dear friend, the crimson bird sings only for you, not for me. Listen to anything, everything, or nothing… You are most welcome here, to walk as you will…
Much obliged.
It’s a beautiful life
Indeed